[My husband] went golfing with the guys one Mother's Day weekend. Brought me a gift - a golf shirt...it was wrapped in the plastic bag from the pro shop. I do not play golf.
Doesn't reading that anecdote make the words "justifiable homicide" flit through your brain? Get 12 women on the jury, Carpoolqueen, and I guarantee that you wouldn't even have to serve jail time.
Fortunately for my husband, he does not play golf. He did himself proud with some potted flowers, delicious chocolate and nuts from Trader Joe's, and an honest-to-goodness grown-up umbrella. I believe he picked up that last present just so he wouldn't have to endure another rainstorm hearing me complain about the Hello, Kitty situation.
The only other thing I would like is a nap; but, seeing as someone had the dubious wisdom of scheduling Anna's orchestra concert on Mother's Day, I will not be getting that wish. I will, however, continue assiduously ignoring the dishes that are piling up in our sink. The magic dishes fairy is not showing up today.
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