I think we all know that I'm no domestic goddess. When I was in college? I was a one of those girls who dressed in Indian Cotton for all of about two weeks until I shrunk it all in the dryer. Jeans and Tevas and T-shirts became my main staple. If I wanted to dress it up? I drove to the mall, went to the $5.00 bin at (insert American store here) and picked out the least offensive one. Yup. I was fashionable Jill College. Stifled by my lack of laundry drying skills.
These are pretty much the skills OR LACK THEREOF that have followed me throughout my life. In fact, I am so undomesticated, I think Momma is sometimes surprised that she managed to potty train me. Upon my impending marriage to dh when we first met she remarked, "You don't cook, you don't clean, you don't...well, what do you have to offer in a marriage?"
I'm still thinking on that one. Which is why it shocks me that I talked dh into making the purchase of this fabulous lounge chair yesterday:
It's VERA SUEDE. It's mammoth. And somewhere deep inside, I'm having some ownerly feelings towards it. Declarations thus far:
1. No sex on the chair.
2. No food on the chair.
3. No drink on the chair.
4. No you on the chair if you smell like cigarettes.
5. No kids. NO KIDS. NO FUCKING KIDS.
And then I wonder who the hell I am! I mean it was ONLY last year that I spilled an entire glass of red wine on my sage green slipcovers and laughed. LAUGHED! An action which would throw most domestic goddesses into a frothing whirlwind. I want to take care of this chair. Which might be kind of hard to enforce since it's in the middle of our ENTIRE living room. We had to take the dining room table out to storage, that's how humongous that damn thing is. I'm tempted to drag it back to the bedroom so I can lie on it and pet it all by myself. No ONE WILL TOUCH IT. Bizarre for me, yes?
Sadly, this is not the only indication of my "domestications." Dh and I made chicken and dumplings from scratch for dinner. I never knew what a pain in the ass "from scratch" was, but holy hell I'd be a lot skinnier if I had to make M&M's from scratch.
3rd indicator? I do activities. With my husband. Away from the computer. Sunday? We put a visor on his restored bug. AND I HAD FUN! What the hell is going on here?
Please promise me y'all will call the paramedics and bring over a box of wine if I start showing these many tendencies this closely spaced together again.