I must have done something right in a past life because Little Bill's mom, T-Money, just took both of les bebes over to her house for an all-afternoon playdate!!!! This leaves me FREE until the big bois get home at 4pm. Well, I say free in a mom-relative sense. I still have to vacuum, wash dishes, clean the kitchen, go to the grocery store and tackle laundry ... but now at least I can do all that with my iPod on. Plus I can spend any extra time brushing my hair and teeth and putting on real clothes. Well, actually, I'll probably keep my gym shorts and tee shirt on, but I'm definitely putting on a bra!!!
I need all this extra time to adjust to my life in the suburbs because in my natural state I am either a country bumpkin or a burned out hippie (it depends on the weather). The other day, Dusty wasn't ready for football practice in time so I told him to just grab his pants and he could change in the parking. But his suburban ass wasn't having none of that. So I'm all, "What? You're too good to change clothes in a parking lot? I peed in a parking lot just last night!" Dusty was horrified, but allow me to explain myself.
It was Sunday night, almost midnight, and it was a metro Park-and-Ride lot. So nobody was even around, plus I'd been on the Metro for an hour and you know those homeless-phobic stations don't have any facilities. I didn't think it was a big deal to pop a squat, but My Gay Husband was outraged. He kept insisting that it was illegal but I don't believe that. How can it be illegal to urinate outdoors? It's not like I went into somebody's house. My Gay Husband just doesn't make sense to me sometimes. People are supposed to urinate outside. Toilets are the weird thing here.
In other potty-related news, Dash asked me what a bark was. I explained that dogs talk with barks and then spent several minutes barking in different octaves. "No, not that," he said. "One that sounds like [insert farting noise] and it's like making a bubble with your [points to ass]."