Candy Came From Out On The Island

This weekend has been wildly decadent.  Out of control.

She says, Hey babe.....

Yesterday I ate two donuts.  Cream-filled donuts.  I couldn't make up my mind between buttercream filled or custard so I ate both.  I put sugar in my coffee, too.


And the non-white girls go doo do doo do doo do do doo....

MathMan had the bad idea to buy a 50% off bag of Halloween candy.  It makes me wonder if he doesn't like me with a little more pushin' for the cushion.  Good thing the bag contained only Almond Joys and not Mounds, as well.  I would have hated to tax myself trying to decide if I felt like a nut or not.

After yesterday's disgusting food festival, I moved the bag of candy out of my reach.  I've spent today watching MathMan get exercise by walking back and forth between the bed and the bag of candy as he fetches tiny box of Milk Duds after tiny box of Milk Duds.

I said, Hey Joe.......

So it turns out I like writing sex scenes.  Shocking, I know.  This new book is at the 12,000 word mark and I've already got someone losing her virginity, a former boyfriend with a rapacious sexual appetite, and some married couple shower peeping.

I swear, this is not even erotica.  I mean, I don't think it is.  No, it's just me writing about how people really are.  At least people in my experience.  You'll have to take that for whatever it's worth.

Examples from just today:  MathMan suggested that I give him a hummer for his upcoming birthday and in exchange he'll give me a pearl necklace.  Somewhere deep in my Baptist DNA some part of me was disgusted.  I couldn't be bothered to react except to scratch and throw him a look of disdain.  It's Sunday, you sicko.

I've been trading thinly disguised sexual reference tweets with my old boyfriend Ethan.

My girlcrush Freida Bee is writing poetry and I'd pretend it's about me except my teeth are super straight.

My unfortunate clothing choice for this incredibly relaxed Sunday is a yoga top that's a bit too big now (yay!) and shows entirely too much of my cleavage.  This causes MathMan to crash into things as he goes back and forth between the bed and the Milk Duds.  It also causes the children to cover their eyes when they come into the bedroom where I sit tap tap tapping away on my laptop in an unmade bed.

This is kind of a good thing.  I'm not in the mood to deal much with the kids today.  They used up their Mom time on Friday as far as I'm concerned.  I took Nate to get his learner's permit.  Meanwhile, an indecisive Chloe was texting me as she tried to decide whether or not to go to Vanderbilt for a football game and girls' out weekend.  At the same time, Sophia was texting me from the middle school nurse's office.  She was dying apparently.  Or dry heaving as she tried to fake puke because I told her she can't just text me when she feels sick.  She has to go to the nurse's office and have her call me.

She missed the part about having the nurse call.  Well, the nurse finally called later after Sophie vomited.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized that the nurse was having to deal with Sophie because by the time she'd finally actually gotten sick, MathMan and I were on our way to the courthouse for our bankruptcy hearing.

"Don't worry," the really nice nurse said.  "She's got much better aim that most kids."

And now I'm writing this post because I really don't feel like driving Chloe back to school. Of course she decided to go to Vandy.  And now I have to drive four hours round trip and I still haven't had a shower.

I said, Hey babe.....

The clue to how out of control things are? The unmade bed.

Doo do doo do do doo do doo do do doo....

How do you define decadent?  Is it wrong to be thus on a Sunday?