My Sweet Boy

I got nothin’.  I’ve been trying to come up with a blog post for the past couple of days and I’m drawing a big fat blank.

I could talk about how the hubs is interviewing for a position tomorrow and that prayers to higher powers are always welcome.

I could talk about how I have a week filled with evening activities that involve small talk and copious amounts of booze.

I could talk about how I’m trying to set up a face to face with a blogger buddy and you’d think we were trying to schedule peace talks in the Middle East based on how hard it’s been to coordinate our schedules.

I could talk about how, as the summer comes to a close, I get “senioritis” at work because the end is in site which translates to I ain’t gettin’ shit done.

I could talk about how I reached out to a gastroenterologist’s office today to schedule a colonoscopy because I turned 52 in May and still haven’t had my first one yet.  Better late than never.

I could talk about how I had lunch with a friend yesterday’s who’s husband’s college roommate is dying of colon cancer (see above note) at 50. 

I could also talk about how excited I am that my nephew’s wedding is approaching quickly and how good it will be to see not only him but the baby as well.

I could talk about the fact that my son gave me one of the greatest compliments I’ve ever had when he told me on Saturday that he thought I was still a little bad-ass.

Wait…yes…I will talk about that.  Why?  Because I can of course!

I’ve posted before about how I used to be just a little bit bad ass – but in an upscale kind of class act way (try to follow me here).  But motherhood, daughter hood and drinking have sucked all of that out and now I feel used up and, well, old.  All aboard the pity train!

But we were running errands on Saturday and I made a wrong turn into a Cadillac dealership.  We started talking about luxury cars and I said that although I like Cadillacs I could never see myself driving one (unless I had won a pink one in Mary Kay of course).  He said that he didn’t see me in one either, that I was more of a sporty BMW or Audi A4 kind of woman (I prefer the Volvo that Edward drove in Twilight but…whatever).  He also said (pay attention – this is where it gets good) that he pictured me pulling up in one of those cars (black of course) and getting out with my Louboutin’s and when the stiletto hit the pavement it would crack – because I’m just that bad ass.

I kid you not…I got teary.

I love that kid.

Even if he was blowing smoke up my ass.


2 thoughts on “My Sweet Boy

  1. Sherry I have to say that you are one of the funniest bloggers I read and you make me lol or at the very least, smile big with each post. I think you and I would be great friends in real life…polar opposites, but great none the less. Lol my kids would never think to describe me as a stiletto wearing bad ass. The mere idea makes me lol. I would be the one schlumping up in my long hippie skirt and Birkenstocks giving you a hug and asking if I could rub the kinks out of your feet from wearing those silly shoes…with my patchouli lotion. 😉

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