Monday, January 11, 2010

OMG It's Worse Than We Feared...The Slide

Lydia and Kate passed each other in traffic near their kids' school this morning. Lydia rolled down the window and waved with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever. Then her cellphone rang.

Kate: Nice wave out of your car window. Especially the face. You looked like Deiter.

Lydia: Well, danke. I drank way too much last night. It was like magic. I only had one glass but it never seemed to get empty. I think the Cap'n may have had something to do with it.

Kate: Yeah, me too. Damn you, Charles Shaw. And you too, Trader Joe. You are now Traitor Joe - you and your three dollar wine... To the point that I didn't even notice the HUGE typo in the last post. Where I talk about spelling the words wrong, and I say "every - single - time" -- nope. EVER. Ever. Single Time. Which is funny because I'm talking about spelling words wrong. But I have to change it.

Lydia: I can do it if you want.

Kate: Nah, I'm headed home anyway. Have to shower. I'm beyond Surrender Kate today. I'm actually wearing mismatched sweatpants. Mis. Matched. Sweat. Pants.

Lydia: I dropped Thumbelina off today in slippers. And maternity pants. And a fleece with nothing underneath. I did a have a bra on, though. I gave the teacher who was working in the drop off lane the "Don't Judge Me" look. Because of course my kid made me get out the car. So the teacher saw my slippers.

Kate: Did it work? Because I totally would have judged you.

Lydia: Of course it worked. Don't question my mojo, Sweatpants.

Kate: Really? Because your "baby" is now walking and talking and eating lo mein with chopsticks so I think those pants need to go to the garage to be with their friends.

Lydia: (snort) You might just be right. But they're cargo maternity pants. Isn't that a mitigating factor?

Kate: Can you feel how disappointed I am in you? I have the same face as when you asked me if I had ever colored my own hair. Are you KIDDING me? Are you out of your damn mind?

Lydia: That was awesome. I love that face. You looked like I had asked if you thought it was OK that I perform my own kidney transplant. And your face said: "There are professionals for that for a reason." And then your Texas came out and you said something like "Honey, I don't care if you cheat on your husband or your boyfriend or your OB/GYN but you DO NOT fool around on your colorist." Then I thought we were going to magically find ourselves at the Galleria in Dallas, in velour track suits walking into Nordstrom.

Kate: (laughing) Buying Aqua Net! (sigh) I love track pants. You know, it used to be people would try to out dress each other, now we're just trying to out undress each other.

Lydia: I'm like the anchor that's keeping you in reality, Sweatpants. The fashion anchor. The chain on your ankle weighing you down. A year from now you'll be wearing a t-shirt with an applique of a cat on it. Swapping at a bell or hanging on a tree branch.

Kate: (sounding wistful) I used to be all about Jimmy Choo. Now I'm all about Jimmy Dean.

Lydia: McLovin is going to forbid you from hanging out with me anymore.

Kate: I'm hanging up now. I have to go downstairs and write before I forget all this.

Lydia: You just wait...I'm getting you sweatpants. From Walmart. With writing on the butt.

Kate: Awesome. Room for Jimmy Dean.


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