Did I ever tell you about my bachelorette party? It was THE best night. First, I looked hotspice.
Secondly, there was this:
Okay, so, obvi... my bachelorette party was second to none. There are no words. It was an amazing night. (I credit the dress.)
Simultaneously, hubs was embarking on his bachelor party. The boys were on the way to play paintball in an RV... on loan from the parents of one of the guys. They stopped for gas, and the guy in question filled up the tank. With diesel.
The RV didn't take diesel. The guys were stuck there for quite some time, in the July heat, waiting on a ride...
Long story short, they FINALLY got to play paintball, then went to Diesel-boys house and cleaned up and cooked out, and then ended the night at the Casino Boat across the river from us in Indiana. No strip club, no thongs or dollar bills or boobies for my groom! What a lame bachelor party! Looo-sers.
Later, hubs found out that my friend (yeah, it was the same preggers or porn gal... the Math teacher!) had gotten me a stripper for my b-party, which obviously was about 21305 times cooler than his b-party.
Sooo, I always told hubs that I "owed" him a night of stripper-ness. You know, where he's allowed to go to the semi-nudie bar without me getting mad. (See, it's really not his thing. He's never been to a place like that... not that I know of!... in the eight-ish years we've been together. I figured allowing him to go would make it even less likely that he would actually do it. Yeeeeah.)
Fast forward, two years later, I'm home cleaning on a Saturday night, just a pregnant and loving wife preparing the home for a baby. Hubs was out at the Louisville football game with a guy-friend. (Actually, it was the same guy with the Diesel-issue in the RV!)
After the game, hubs called en route to a sports bar. The boys were going to hang out a bit longer. They ran into some other friends, blah... etc...
I'm SURE you can see where this is going! Hubs got home a few hours later, and I was all, "Where'd you guys go?"
Yeah, they went to a strip club. The friends they ran into were a part of... you guessed it... a bachelor party.
Hubs was like, "I stayed far, far away from the nekkid women."
I told him not to say "nekkid" ever again.
I tried not to be mad. I really wasn't mad. It's just... I'm pregnant and fat and disgusting and haven't been laid in months...
I was sad. So I started crying. I kept saying, "I'm not, sob, sniff... mad. I'm, sniff, really not mad."
Hubs felt bad.
So, after I quit crying I decided I was glad that he went because he was home by 9:00, which means it was a pretty lame trip to a strip club. And now we're even, so he can't really get away with going again.
And I got flipped around by my own personalspice stripper. Hubs probably just got an eyeful of side-boob.
I win.
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| Ohhh, I miss skinny Amber! Circa 2008. |
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| I love how it looks like I'm in an empty room. There were PLENTY of other ladies there who, I might add, ALSO got flipped around. |
Simultaneously, hubs was embarking on his bachelor party. The boys were on the way to play paintball in an RV... on loan from the parents of one of the guys. They stopped for gas, and the guy in question filled up the tank. With diesel.
The RV didn't take diesel. The guys were stuck there for quite some time, in the July heat, waiting on a ride...
Long story short, they FINALLY got to play paintball, then went to Diesel-boys house and cleaned up and cooked out, and then ended the night at the Casino Boat across the river from us in Indiana. No strip club, no thongs or dollar bills or boobies for my groom! What a lame bachelor party! Looo-sers.
Later, hubs found out that my friend (yeah, it was the same preggers or porn gal... the Math teacher!) had gotten me a stripper for my b-party, which obviously was about 21305 times cooler than his b-party.
Sooo, I always told hubs that I "owed" him a night of stripper-ness. You know, where he's allowed to go to the semi-nudie bar without me getting mad. (See, it's really not his thing. He's never been to a place like that... not that I know of!... in the eight-ish years we've been together. I figured allowing him to go would make it even less likely that he would actually do it. Yeeeeah.)
Fast forward, two years later, I'm home cleaning on a Saturday night, just a pregnant and loving wife preparing the home for a baby. Hubs was out at the Louisville football game with a guy-friend. (Actually, it was the same guy with the Diesel-issue in the RV!)
After the game, hubs called en route to a sports bar. The boys were going to hang out a bit longer. They ran into some other friends, blah... etc...
I'm SURE you can see where this is going! Hubs got home a few hours later, and I was all, "Where'd you guys go?"
Yeah, they went to a strip club. The friends they ran into were a part of... you guessed it... a bachelor party.
Hubs was like, "I stayed far, far away from the nekkid women."
I told him not to say "nekkid" ever again.
I tried not to be mad. I really wasn't mad. It's just... I'm pregnant and fat and disgusting and haven't been laid in months...
I was sad. So I started crying. I kept saying, "I'm not, sob, sniff... mad. I'm, sniff, really not mad."
Hubs felt bad.
So, after I quit crying I decided I was glad that he went because he was home by 9:00, which means it was a pretty lame trip to a strip club. And now we're even, so he can't really get away with going again.
And I got flipped around by my own personalspice stripper. Hubs probably just got an eyeful of side-boob.
I win.
Comments
And you are even.
Missed you, too, doll. It seems I so rarely make the rounds these days.