Saturday, November 10, 2007

Damage Control

I did something bad. Impulsive and expensive and something I swore I would never do and bad.

I blame it on her.

But I'm kind of afraid to tell my husband what I did. He's gonna kick my butt. (Actually he'll shake his head, furrow his brow, and make a mad face...but still.)

So...um...I'm going to try and get on his good side.

Hi, Honey! I love you. You're so handsome. The picture you sent me made me swoon. I can't wait until you get home. You know all that stuff we've talked about that has been rated M for Mature? Um, yeah. I can't wait to do all of that stuff. All of it. *Ahem*

And, um, you know how I always harp on you about spending too much money on your truck and your hobbies? I'm never going to do that again. And you know that airplane you want to buy? Well, you just tell me where to sign. And you know that boat you want that I really don't want because I hate boats? Yeah, you can have that too.

I might even be persuaded to rub your back now and then. And visit you parents.

If all of that isn't enough, well...um...could you maybe try to remember that I'm the mother of your children? Aren't they beautiful? You couldn't have made those beautiful, smart, sweet, bright, wonderful kids with anyone else but me.

Right?

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