(an oldy but goody...reposted)
shin·gle [shĭng'g*l]n. - a thin oblong piece of material, such as wood or slate, that is laid in overlapping rows to cover the roof or sides of a house or other building.
Our house has them. They protect us from water damage. Our children have a play house that has them. Keeps them dry as they are saving the world (or the cat, depending on the day). If our dog was an outside dog, I am sure my dear hubby would have adorned her dogbox with shingles.
None of these are the kind of shingles I have. And mine are not on my roof....they are closer to my basement if you know where I mean...
Tonight was the night I was looking forward to for 2 months. A while ago I was teasing my husband that HOME DEPOT does not a date make. I hinted that I would like to have a reason to buy some nice clothes and a reason to wear them.
Me: "Ya know, I have never been anywhere that has an actual dress code. Like, NO JEANS."
Him: "Yes, you have!"
Me: "Name one."
Him: I can think of a lot of them. What about the DuPont Mansion?"
Me: "OK, if I had to be in a bride's maids dress, that doesn't count. You get a re-do."
Me: "Yep. My point exactly."
Him: "Well, we will have to change that now won't we?"
Two days later I get an email from my usually-to-busy-to-email hubby. The subject said, "get a babysitter." It's an e-invitation to a corporate event at a VERY posh country club. The body of his email said, "NO JEANS! I love you."
The event is tonight. For the last week he has been telling me I am too sick to go. That I will never feel like going.
mar·bles [mahr-buhls]n. - metamorphosed limestones, consisting chiefly of recrystallized calcite or dolomite, capable of taking a high polish, occurring in a wide range of colors and variegations and used in sculpture and architecture.
These were NOT the marbles I told him he had lost. "Honey, I have been chasing a 2-year old all day, done the grocery shopping in torrential down-pours, helped with homework and got all 3 kids to bed single-handedly while you were in Chicago, all while feeling like death was looming. What in the world makes you think sitting and eating with other couples while listening to live dinner music and sipping expensive wine would bring out the CODE paddles?"
When I had him take a look at my "rash" yesterday and told him I thought it was Shingles, he said, once again..."See. We are not going!"
Last night I went to the spa, got my hair done and shopped for a new outfit (shoes and jewelry, too)! Came home and did the fashion show....I get, "Listen to your voice, we are NOT going."
So, why do I need to talk? I am very talkative, as you all know, but I would be thrilled to just sit, look pretty and be waited on without saying a word. The mere possibility of a dinner where no food gets spit, spilled or spewed, no one fights over the last piece of garlic bread or whines about having to eat just two more bites brings a smile to my face.
I head off to the doctor this morning, leaving my toddler with the neighbor (you ask why the need for a babysitter? See my previous post).
Dr: "Yes, my dear. I believe you have Shingles."
Me: "Oh no. We have huge dinner plans tonight. Should I not go?"
Dr: "Well, you can only spread them if someone touches them."
(pertinent information - they are on my backside)
Me: "Oh, no worries. It's not THAT kind of party!"
Nurse: "GAAFFAAAWWWW!" and trips over herself as she leaves the room.
I pick up the baby, get home and call my hubby.
Me: "YEAH! We can go. The doctor said."
Him: "Um. I feel like crap. I finally caught the cold you have."
Me: ((sniffle, sniffle)) "OK, hope you feel better!"
defeated [de*feet*ed]adj. - 1. beaten or overcome; not victorious; 2. disappointingly unsuccessful