After spending a Saturday night wandering around Babies R Us half-comatose, I came to the sad, sad realization that my version of “going out” has morphed just a WEE bit.
These days, good times mean I get to go somewhere – ALONE. It means I don’t have to pack extra diapers, keep my three year old from leaping around the car while I try to strap him in the car seat, load the baby in the carrier, remember the diaper bag, FOR GOD’S SAKE KID SIT DOWN, click the carrier into the base, finally get the kid strapped in… and then undo it all two minutes down the road because I had to hit the store for one freakin gallon of milk.
My current list of pathetic yet surprisingly refreshing “good times” consist of:
- Wandering aimlessly around the mall
- Driving to the credit union and back just because the kids are buckled up and immobilized (ok, kids are in this scenario but they can’t move)
- Carrying my big ass coupon binder to the store and trying to score free food
- Visiting the dentist (let’s just call this “pampering”)
- Three words: TARGET WITHOUT KIDS
And maybe just MAYBE I’ll stop at ye old Starbucks and grab a half caf. I’ve living large, homeys.
So if you wanna crazy good time on a Friday night, give me a call.
CONFESS! What are your “good times”?