Drank that cheap wine GURL!
I should be making dinner. But the crazy lady I sometimes work for took Little Boy to dance class with her granddaughter (his best friend “O”), and Herban Cowboy won’t be home from work for another 45 minutes. I have a sudden, silent hour. So I’m drinking cheap wine and knitting up a kerchief thingy for my hair. My old cat Mojo is curled up beside me on the couch.
Once my buzz kicks in (it’s a big glass), I’ll head into the kitchen, turn on the iPod, and sing Duran Duran songs while I fry up some country steak, bake some french fries, and steam a little broccoli.
And who cares if dinner is 20 minutes late when Mommy is so, so happy?
