Mommy's night out...

   Friday night was declared a girls night.  Plans were made to attend a movie (that certainly did not involve male strippers and plenty of eye candy), and I was going to go this time.  I almost always get left out because of the kids, lack of a babysitter, or simply because I work on the weekends, and most people go out on the weekends.  This time, it was a Friday, at 8 pm.  Now that I can do.  I instructed the hubby to be home before 7 pm, and purchased my ticket online for the movie.  Dear Lord...$12.95 for a movie ticket.  Maybe that's why I never make it out.  OK, ticket purchased, cute outfit chosen (that sadly still reeked of suburban mom, but cute nonetheless), husband on his way home to intercept children so that I could tag out as the designated parent.  I had to make a last second run to Target for miscellaneous stuff that we needed around the house.  I loaded both kids in to the car with promises of red and blue slushies.  I was working with limited time, so bribery is frequently a must.


    The trip to Target was relatively uneventful, due to the slushie goodness that was provided at the door.  I returned home as Mike was pulling into the driveway.  We entered the house together as he suspiciously eyed my Target bags.  I could see his mind working...he was attempting to believe that the items in the bag were "needed" as opposed to "wanted."  As we walked through our front door, Mike asks "What is that smell??"  With two toddlers, a dog, and a cat around our house, it is a question that is posed all too often.  I simply respond  "I have no idea.  The kids need a bath, I should be home around midnight."  And then I spot it..."Or the smell could be whatever that is that appears to be dead on our carpet."  Yep, partially eaten, regurgitated dead bird on my carpet.  Oh the joys of owning pets.  The cat never leaves, so I can only assume that our dog decided to eat said bird, and it didn't sit very well with her.  I left Mike scrubbing the carpet as I was trying to scrub that picture out of my brain.  Things like that don't normally get to me.  I could eat a cheeseburger in the middle of a C-section, if it was allowed.  For some reason, I felt a little bit nauseous the entire way to the theater.  Icky, to say the least.  Hopefully, the scantily clad men on the screen will be able to distract me from this image that is burned into my brain.


    Not 10 minutes into my 35 minute drive to the theater, my husband has called.
Mike "Why the hell do you ever buy our children markers?"
Me  "They are washable...Why, did Molly color all over herself again?  You have to watch her all of the time with markers."
Mike  "Yes, she is in the shower now, I am trying to get it off of her."
Me  "Sorry babe,  Have fun??"
Mike  "you too..."

    Not 5 minutes later, another call.  Seriously??
Mike  "What was in the tube in the shower?"
Me  "huh??  What tube?"
Mike  "The one that says Feria, is it hair dye?"
Me  "Nope, just the conditioner for after you dye your hair."
Mike  "Well your daughter ate some.  She is spitting on the floor and saying yucky."
Me  "I am sure she is fine, I doubt she ingested enough to be concerned.  It is a good sign that she is spitting and thinks it is yucky."
Mike  "So, no Poison Control needed?"
Me  "I think she is fine babe."
Mike  "Oh, and I think she tried to shave her stomach, she has little cut on her belly now."


   I shake my head.  How does that little girl always find what she shouldn't have?  Oh well, off for an evening out.  I run into the theater, find my friends, and take a seat with my bucket of soda and bag of popcorn.  The movie had a little more plot than I was expecting, and I salute the personal trainers that these gentlemen used before and during filming.  It certainly isn't going to win an Oscar, but it was nice for an evening of escapism for this suburban mommy.


   I have been working for the last two nights, and I still have to head in again tonight.  I have completed two loads of laundry, a load of dishes with another to go, posted this in my blog, but I have yet to make it out of my jammies.  Must...get...motivated.  Oh, and does anyone know how to get hot pink highlighter off of your child??  Molly had another Picasso moment while I was working.  She drew all over her arms and legs, and of course finished her piece de resistance by coloring her nose hot pink.  I put her in a pink dress this morning.  I figured I should at least try to compliment the artwork...and hide all of the markers.