Romantic gesture

I saw this post on Facebook. I would like to write down how I would respond if Paul ever did that for me:

Hello,

I don't know who you think I am but I hate the dress you chose. Because of the two children I have birthed, my arms are flabbier and therefore will be hidden under a shawl. My thighs will not allow this dress to go past my butt so that is why I never wear it. It reminds me of the carefree life of eating carbs at every meal and not having to wonder why my stomach bellows out when I sit down. Finally, I don't have shoes!

Secondly, dinner at 7? Are you kidding me? I'm hungry at 5:30 because I've nibbled on left over Mac and cheese from lunch and ate a few goldfish crackers (that I found in the couch). 

Thirdly, don't talk to me that way. I'll be ready when I'm ready. Where are we going that it only takes 30 minutes to get there? Are we going to Richmond Hill? We aren't going to Ikea are we? I don't like surprises. It better not be some "new" restaurant, or worse, some place where we have to be wait listed. 

Even if we go out, I'll want to be home by 9:30, because of guilty for staying out late, and also because I'm on season 7 of the X-files and want to watch 3 episodes before I go to sleep. 

So as much as I appreciate the picked out dress and sentiment, no thanks. 

Love,

Me

Waiting room ramblings

Here I am again, at Radiology and Imaging, sans children. They're monitoring the lumps in my breast. I'm just looking forward to the warm room and quietness. This waiting room is full of very sickly looking people. Could it kill people to smile? Not that I'm smiling at them but the whole glazed over faces makes me weap for humanity. 

All I keep thinking about is how much my hospital parking is going to cost. 

That, and what am I making for dinner and why don't grocery stores here carry a good Pico de Galo? Would it kill them not to blend the tomatoes in fresh salsa? We are having fajitas for dinner. It's meatless Monday so we're having beef and chicken. Not a typo. 

I'm deep into season 6 of X-files. I also had a bizarre dream about Andrew Coyne last night. No more. Watching At Issue so late at night. 

First day of school

I dropped Andrew off today at school. I was the only parent that walked their child to the classroom. What are they, HEARTLESS? I think a lot of the kids are 2nd, 3rd and 4th children in the family and by then, I guess you just pat them on the head and say, "Bye, You". So it killed me to stop the "DON'T  LEAVE ME" squeeze of a hug but I did. Sure, I lingered at the door to see if he'd turn around, but he didn't. Sure, I looked in the window to see if he'd look up, but he didn't. Crap. He's fine without me.
So then I start to cry, run into my sister, who mocks me. I leave, go to target and spend $150 on stuff we need. Does anyone need some Dr. Seuss bags? I have a few.

Its odd having one on one time with Elsie now. She doesn't talk as much, or as clearly. Its like she's Icelandic. She repeats whatever syllabic sound she thinks represents something and becomes increasingly more frustrated as I don't know what Lankeycorn is (turns out its a purple unicorn). She amazingly went down for a nap and now here I am with time on my hands. I made a French press coffee, ate two brownies and went online. New routine I guess, for 3 out of the 5 days of the week.