I spent 3 hrs today chasing Jack around a dance dress rehearsal. This was after 2 hours at the zoo. What a rough life I have wouldn't you say? I was talking to one of the other Mom's and she asked if my poor husband was at home fending for himself for dinner.
um. . . yes.
Because apparently she had left a note with her husband describing where everything that he needed for his dinner was. You know, the precooked bacon she had made at 2:00 this afternoon, and all the other ingredients for his BLT. She also took the time to lay out everything that her other daughter would need for dinner.
Hmm. . . I probably should have done this.
I thought of my husband coming home to his bagel and Pepsi and felt really bad. What made it worse was that she seemed to think this was a rare occasion for us too. Like the husband being un-dinnered was just a fluke.
"Ah, poor guy, just BLT's tonight" she had said.
"left him a note" she had said.
I cleared my throat a little. She was waiting for me to say something. I could have told her Andrew would have been thrilled with BLT's. Or even a homemade sandwich. But, I made a new friend and I think that is MUCH more important than telling the truth.
I feel like "ohmygosh, I know" was an awesome reply and wasn't even a fib, it was an un-lie.
Un-Lie: verb
fibbing by interpretation
By the way, for those of you who want to know the end of this story, He did get dinner when I got home. Pizza is in the food groups. Right between fruit and diet coke.
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