Woman's Logic

Scene: Lying in bed with my husband when we hear a strange sound outside. The mystery noise sounds like a baby crying.

Me: (in my head) Is that a baby crying? Why can I hear my neighbors' baby cry? When did my neighbors have a baby? Oh my god, it's the serial killer who makes baby cries to lure women to open up their door.

Husband: "Damn Cat."

Me: "Of course."

Blog

I want to overhaul my blog. I want a different look and a directional purpose for it. I tried to change the template and it isn't working. Apparently I need Blogger Templates for Dummies.

Bar Story

This weekend at the bar, with a table of five girls, we got hit on. Not only was this an ego boost, but how brave were those guys? Most of us had our husbands/fiances present, but they decided they were back in middle school and wanted a guys only table. So as we sat around and drank when Rachel noticed that the table directly beside us with three guys were very interested in her breasts. So much so that she pulled up her top (which wasn't really reveling any cleavage) and flipped them off. They didn't get the message. So one brave soul got up from his table and came over to ask us "if anyone graduated from localoverpricedprivate high school." Um no. And I'm ten years removed from high school. Does that mean he thinks I'm young enough to be right out of high school? I'll go with that. Back to story, we of course reply with whyareyouaskingusastupidquestion look when Rachel immediately starts yelling she's married and holds up her ring finger for all to see the bling. She also points at her husband who just looks up and nods and goes back to his conversation. The brave soul tucked his tail and went back to the table of booby-lookers. Then another member of I have no tact when looking at breasts club comes up and asks us if we're all married. We replied yes and then held out our ring fingers for them. We also pointed out our husbands/fiances at the next table who continued to be blatantly unaware of what just occurred.

Note to self

Do not celebrate with boss on a Wednesday at noon. Getting home smashed at 6pm is never a good thing.