Friday the 13th notwithstanding, it has been kind of weird around here today. Having to use the treadmill instead of walking outside (too smoky from the fires, couldn't breathe), inadvertently causing Daughter to cry, commiserating with Son who didn't get the job he was going after (I know he feels really bad about this), trying to lift the spirits of another Son who took a spill the other day on his motor-scooter and is hurting (don't think I was successful there, either), finding out not only will The Husband and I not be able to celebrate an anniversary next week but he will be out of town (and truly, My Love, it's fine - this is important to us both), and still feeling like I somehow wear a neon sign that says "I'm stupid, you'll have to teach me every single thing I need to know to survive, I can't manage on my own without your tutelage" (even when in my heart I know it isn't true, just seems like it) and I'm thinking it might be an evening for gelato--to he** with the scales. (And if that's not emotional eating, I wonder what is?)
Update: The gelato was wonderful. I had the white mint chocolate chip and The Husband had the german chocolate. Also wonderful: sharing our laughter. Earlier I had teased The Husband about his foot attire when he headed out to the doctor: flip flops with white socks. He didn't care. Besides, we're old now, people don't care how we dress.
But that 30-ish lady we saw come into the grocery tonight? Seriously?!? U of U athletic shorts (those nylon mesh ones) - a couple sizes large, super baggy and down past her knees. And of course, since they're U, they're red. On top, a t-shirt layered under a champagne colored multi-tiered (ruffles around the entire, top to bottom) spaghetti strap chiffon top. And casual flip flops. (Made us giggle. Giggles are better together.) After seeing this, I won't be teasing The Husband about his footwear.
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