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Make Sure You Use Your Ring Finger When You Dab That Wrinkle Cream Under My Eyes

It's been an exciting Saturday here in southwest Florida that started at 7:00 a.m. with me in the kitchen baking hashbrown casserole and baked ziti. Yep, the woman who has been known to bring a can of black olives for lunch because she had nothing left in the house that didn't have to be cooked turned on the oven this morning. I chopped and poured and shredded while wearing my pajamas and sipping my coffee.

You don't understand how rare this moment of domestication was for me. I've quickly evolved into a single woman who eats microwaveable food and washes the dishes only when she runs out of coffee cups. (Sadly, I've actually re-used a coffee cup or two just to stretch the dishwashing schedule.) Nonetheless, I had a baby shower brunch to attend and needed a freeze-able casserole to leave behind for the family.

If the fact that I actually cooked this morning wasn't odd enough, let me point out that I mentioned a BABY SHOWER on a Saturday before I had any wine to drink. I'm not a fan of showers that don't involve gray skies and high humidity. Does anyone really like wrapping a woman in toilet paper or microwaving chocolate bars in diapers? I think I'd rather cook myself a five course meal and wash the dirty dishes immediately after eating. Fortunately, the only game that we planned to play was chocolate Trivial Pursuit, and I heard that someone promised to bring sticky buns.

Sticky buns? On a non-running day? I know, that's ludicrous, right?

So the woman who lost her will to cook in the divorce and would happily spit in the face of the person who invented shower games actually went to a baby shower. We sat around the coffee table and ate and listened to music and talked about serious, life-altering topics like washing machines. Yep, washing machines. Front vs. top loaders. High efficiency detergent. The woes of being single and never having enough whites to actually make a full load. My head was spinning with all the possibilities!

Then we tackled floor cleaning appliances, and by the time we reached an intense debate over how to find the perfect broom, someone looked at me and mouthed, "really?" I was all like, "Dude, I use plastic utensils at home so I don't have to wash dishes until the coffee cups run out. This discussion is way out of my league." Then I turned on the never-ending Pearl Jam playlist in my head and belted out a few lines from "Once".

The sad part was the realization that we have all finally reached the point in life that an afternoon of appliance talk could actually be engaging. Then we all made sure to call our friend who couldn't attend the shower and fill her in on the wonders of The Shark tile cleaner.

What's next? Gray hair and crows' feet?
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Christy said…
(shiver) Blech. I don't like 'em too ;)
Kudos on the casserole, though.
1:19 PM
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