To Godiva For
Last night we got a sitter. What a sweet job for her: we put The Goose to bed and then she just sat here watching movies and getting paid $10/hour. She's 17. Were you making $10/hour at 17? Even if you count inflation, I think that's pretty darn good for just sitting here watching movies. Did I mention that all she had to do was just sit here and watch movies?
As I was getting dressed I thought, "Hmmm, should I wear this really low-cut tank top in front of the babysitter, or just wear a t-shirt and change in the car?" Then I decided that I was not ashamed of who I am (PWT) and marched downstairs proudly wearing it along with my getchasome pants and red cowgirl boots (also you should know that I chose the hazel eyes Almay shadow trio and liner and my standard red lipstick).
As I was giving her the emergency phone numbers, she looked directly at my chest. Then she looked back up at me with eyes that said, "You are WAY too old to be wearing such a slutty tank top." I ignored it even though I wanted to slink back upstairs and change into a denim jumper.
But once we were in the car I felt like I was definitely NOT too old to be wearing that top or the getchasomes or the boots. This overconfident attitude is likely what inspired the night and I must say that it was SO GOOD to be out dancing like a real human being on a Saturday night! It was one of those nights that starts out with a chocolate martini called "To Godiva For" and ends with me on stage, shaking a tambourine, while participating in a song called "Dirty Old Man."
There were also some fun in-between moments ... like the conversation I had at the bar with what must have been a teenager wearing a crooked maroon baseball cap, who said, "Wouldn't it be nice if there was a urinal under the bar where you could just pee it out as it goes in?" That was my first trip to the bar.
On my second trip, I was waiting for the bartender and decided it would be fun to bet the people around me that if I applied red lipstick I would get a drink faster than them even though they had been there longer. They agreed to the bet. As usual, the red lipstick got me a really fast drink and saved me a few bucks. Then I told them about how it also works for high patrolmen who otherwise might give you a speeding ticket.
On my third trip, I took out all of my wallet-sized pictures of The Goose, spread them across the bar, and started telling everyone all about how I really shouldn't be drinking so much because of my inability to pump-n-dump as a result of the Northwest Airlines breast pump debacle. Gasps were heard and cries of revenge rang out.
When we got home, I didn't have the decency to sneak upstairs, but instead decided to plop down on the couch with the half-asleep babysitter and attempt to make conversation about "The Bourne Identity." She, of course, looked at me with eyes that said, "You are WAY too old to be that tipsy."
Maybe I am, but it sure was fun. And anyway, I don't think I should be embarrassed about my clothing or behavior since anyone who values her child enough to pay a babysitter $10/hour to do nothing but sit here and watch movies may be PWT, but must also be a PTGF.
Have you gotten it yet?
Still thinking?
Come on, at least look back at the title and THINK before you just lazily scroll down and cheat.
Give up?
It's Parent To Godiva For. I am cracking myself up!
So long, farewell, alveederzane (sp?), goodbye from Kimpossible, HEM, PWTPI, & PTGF.
As I was getting dressed I thought, "Hmmm, should I wear this really low-cut tank top in front of the babysitter, or just wear a t-shirt and change in the car?" Then I decided that I was not ashamed of who I am (PWT) and marched downstairs proudly wearing it along with my getchasome pants and red cowgirl boots (also you should know that I chose the hazel eyes Almay shadow trio and liner and my standard red lipstick).
As I was giving her the emergency phone numbers, she looked directly at my chest. Then she looked back up at me with eyes that said, "You are WAY too old to be wearing such a slutty tank top." I ignored it even though I wanted to slink back upstairs and change into a denim jumper.
But once we were in the car I felt like I was definitely NOT too old to be wearing that top or the getchasomes or the boots. This overconfident attitude is likely what inspired the night and I must say that it was SO GOOD to be out dancing like a real human being on a Saturday night! It was one of those nights that starts out with a chocolate martini called "To Godiva For" and ends with me on stage, shaking a tambourine, while participating in a song called "Dirty Old Man."
There were also some fun in-between moments ... like the conversation I had at the bar with what must have been a teenager wearing a crooked maroon baseball cap, who said, "Wouldn't it be nice if there was a urinal under the bar where you could just pee it out as it goes in?" That was my first trip to the bar.
On my second trip, I was waiting for the bartender and decided it would be fun to bet the people around me that if I applied red lipstick I would get a drink faster than them even though they had been there longer. They agreed to the bet. As usual, the red lipstick got me a really fast drink and saved me a few bucks. Then I told them about how it also works for high patrolmen who otherwise might give you a speeding ticket.
On my third trip, I took out all of my wallet-sized pictures of The Goose, spread them across the bar, and started telling everyone all about how I really shouldn't be drinking so much because of my inability to pump-n-dump as a result of the Northwest Airlines breast pump debacle. Gasps were heard and cries of revenge rang out.
When we got home, I didn't have the decency to sneak upstairs, but instead decided to plop down on the couch with the half-asleep babysitter and attempt to make conversation about "The Bourne Identity." She, of course, looked at me with eyes that said, "You are WAY too old to be that tipsy."
Maybe I am, but it sure was fun. And anyway, I don't think I should be embarrassed about my clothing or behavior since anyone who values her child enough to pay a babysitter $10/hour to do nothing but sit here and watch movies may be PWT, but must also be a PTGF.
Have you gotten it yet?
Still thinking?
Come on, at least look back at the title and THINK before you just lazily scroll down and cheat.
Give up?
It's Parent To Godiva For. I am cracking myself up!
So long, farewell, alveederzane (sp?), goodbye from Kimpossible, HEM, PWTPI, & PTGF.
posted by Kimpossible @ 6/19/2005 08:29:00 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home