The Spring Rolls and The Cookies Killed My Phone

27 Jan

I hadn’t been out since my All-I-Wanted-To-Do-Was-Leave-by-8:00 adventure.

I was ready to have dinner made by anyone else but me and not have to wash the dishes or baby bottles.  So I prepared myself to fight traffic and drove about 45 minutes to a friend’s house for a girls night. Beverages included.

I  arrived after the designated dinner time, as any insane mom does, but there was plenty of food waiting for me at the table. Just sitting there on square white plates, saying giddy up girl. Dig in, because you have no square plates at home.

I must have eaten at least 20 spring rolls and 10 pot stickers. In addition I ate a generous Claim-Jumper portion size of the most tender steak, with savory salty drippings that were sopped up by my mouth. No need for bread.

I was like a caveman. I just couldn’t stop eating. And then came the cookies. Warm, soft, gooey. I ate 11. I thought a dozen might be too many. I didn’t want to get crazy. So instead I ate two more spring rolls. I sat there in a food coma. Happy that I didn’t have to serve anyone for once, or hear anybody crying for a bottle, or whining about bath time, or talking about golfing the next day, or getting sassy with me in Spanish.

I savored the moment. So I took another cookie. Why not? 12 is a good number. But maybe 14 is better. Maybe another spring roll.

As I sat there chit-chatting with the girls and continuing with my buffet, I heard the latest romantic adventure of my newly engaged friend, whose story made me re-live John Cusack‘s boombox scene from Say Anything. Complete I-love-you moments. It was like watching a Beaches commercial, except the actors were hot Latinos instead of bouncing blond people.

But I could feel my stomach getting bigger and bigger.

I had to do it…no choice. Didn’t need a muffin top overflowing the waist of my pants. So I unbuttoned the top button of my jeans and sighed.

After a while I went to use the facilities and as I tried to fit my stomach back into my pants the top copper button flew out. I’m not a big girl by any means, but it shot out like a bullet. Granted they were older jeans, but they were Lucky Brand. These buttons were authentic hardware woven into my vintage pants with steel-like thread. Must have used some hard detergent and it loosened it accidentally

No. Not it. Let’s stop playing these games. The button just couldn’t take it anymore. Powerful spring rolls. 

In any case I found it near the bathtub and for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to place it on top of the toilet tank. So as I reached over to put it there I heard a plop and then a clank hit the toilet.

Dude.

My cell phone had decided to jump ship and drown itself in the toilet. Now I’m nothing like Howard Hughes, Howie Mandel, or Monk with that OCD crazy clean factor, but toilet water is not appealing. I was going to let it drown but I figured I needed the pictures on the phone camera more than anything else. So I plunged in and quickly rinsed the phone off in regular sink water. I figured it drowned already what’s a little more water going to do. Then I disinfected my hands with massive amounts of soap. It said antibacterial on the bottle, so I was hoping it did its scientific thing. If there were Comet or Ajax I’d be up to my elbows on that one, but I thought anitbacterial…99.9 percent is all right.

I figured after my button and phone, it was time to call it a night. Besides I had to make it back in time to feed the baby when she woke up at her regular midnight-what’s-up-mom routine. I also wanted to get my phone as dry as possible, perhaps use my Con-Air Infiniti blow dryer, which was so successful with my computer.

All in all it was a good night. And then I returned and just like clockwork midnight approached and there was the baby sending out the blissful sounds of  whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa through the airwaves. Toys everywhere. Bottles on the counter. Dishes in the sink.

I’m glad I took an extra cookie to go. I should have taken a spring roll too.

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