Otto and I packed up from camping, came home, removed everything from the camper and shoved it into the washing machine, and then he promptly left me to go race cars… somewhere. Up north. I forget where. I wasn’t really paying attention, on account of I took this opportunity when 1) my kids are gone and 2) Otto is off to play cars to 3) demand that my bestie come spend the weekend with me.
We are positively INEBRIATED with the sheer joy of having no one to answer to and no real plans (other than some fancy dinner plans Otto made for us for tomorrow night because he is awesome), and so far have managed to throw the ball for the dog a few times, talk each others’ ears off, and shop for nutritious dinner food like a hunk of brie and crackers. We have also spent some quality time combing through the Netflix available streaming movies to make sure tonight we have something truly terrible to watch while we flick popcorn at the dog.
[I know that now that I’m all grown up I’m not supposed to get all giddy over what is essentially the 40-year-old version of a slumber party, but screw that. Moms need play dates, too, man.]