not me! monday

Dear God,

Could you please let this be my last pregnant “not me! Monday” for a while?

Amen.

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What are public assertions of our own embarrassing quirks and choices good for if not laughter? Also, if the laughter resulting from my “not” confessions is equal to or greater than the amount of embarrassment I should have in telling them, you best be prepared. You may even want have some of these on hand, because this week was a doozie.

I did not take the shirt off my very back and begin scrubbing it in the bathroom sink after dripping caramel sauce¬† down my front. I did not claim to do this “so that the stain doesn’t set” when in reality I was doing it so I could wear it again to church the next day.

Similarly, I have not worn this camisole top a handful of times since I last washed it [see also: my laundry room].

Also related, I did not eat ice cream with copious amounts of caramel sauce and whipped cream on top after lunch on Saturday. Noon is far too early for that many simple sugars in one sitting.

I did not pay $6 for a large iced tea at the Cirque Du Soleil show we went to yesterday. Who pays that much for corn syrup and frozen water?! Not me!

I did not squeal and break DanO’s ear drum over the phone when he told me that the package containing our gDiaper gCloth inserts (as opposed to the disposable inserts we got back in March) had arrived. I did not then scurry home and try said diapering system on a teddy bear for practice.

I did not impulse buy morning glory sparklers while at Menard’s getting a dryer vent. I did not then proceed to bring them to a very mature, all adult 4th of July party and allow my husband to run around someone else’s yard with a friend, one sparkler in each hand, arms extended, making rocket ship noises and calling them their jet engines.

::please take a moment and picture that::

You’re welcome.

This is not the chair from which I cheer on DanO as he whips me up a laundry room, ex nihilo. We did not bring it down from the guest room a few weeks ago so I could have sufficient lumbar support while my husband drilled out cement to install a dryer vent.

I am such a good helper.

(Wait. Are those WALLS in your laundry room?! Oh yes they are! Stay tuned!)

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Perhaps you can relate to a little mid-day caramel sundae, over-priced purchase, or obnoxious diapering behavior (ok, that last one is less likely). Feel free to confess it in a comment or link to your own not me! post if you have a blog. Embarrassment loves company, no? Or hey, if you’re the kind of person that would rather laugh at than laugh with, hop on over to MckMama’s blog.

Just, don’t say I didn’t warn you.