The Writing Mamas Daily Blog
Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.
And for that, you are a goddess.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Wanted: Playmate for My Husband
Wanted: Married weary female mother of three seeks playmate for my late-30s-year old husband. Must be fun loving, not tired all the time, peppy, happy, consistently cheery, and able to have dinner ready at the end of the day.
Must not be blond, under 26 y/old, or a former capital “P” Playmate. Absolutely no “secretaries” or “assistants” or “flight attendants” need apply.
Must like late, weekday nights out at Bimbos, the Warfield and the Fillmore. Must know what the Boom-Boom Room is and how to get there. Must dig all kinds of music, have a working knowledge of the ‘80s greatest hits, and be able to karaoke Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” in its entirety with a pool cue. Any air-guitar experience a bonus!
Must, must be able to stay out until 2 a.m. on a Wednesday and wake up by 7 a.m. on a Thursday to help with the kids. No hangovers allowed.
Sports knowledge necessary – a good candidate will have memorized roster and ERAs of NY Yankees and SF Giants, field positions of Raiders and Patriots, and like to watch and discuss them for hours while scratching your inner thigh. Must like beer, too, and have extensive tailgating experience. TiVo skills are key, but manhandling the remote is not preferred.
Should adore picking up his extra socks, boxers and newspapers from the bathroom floor. Should abhor long, sentimental conversations and be okay with closing the refrigerator door.
Should not be a wife. Should not have children. Should be completely unencumbered by anything more demanding than a fern or a wart. Someone living in hotel rooms and out of honor an bar is an attractive candidate, especially if there is free HBO or Toblerone involved.
Should have the energy of a person on a Starbucks Triple Espresso w/ a Red Bull chaser. Should know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em.
No “skinny jeaned” or “halter toped” persons need apply. Rather, pimply, saggy, wrinkly people preferred.
If you are this person, please call immediately -- concert tonight at 10 p.m.
By Annie B. Yearout
Must not be blond, under 26 y/old, or a former capital “P” Playmate. Absolutely no “secretaries” or “assistants” or “flight attendants” need apply.
Must like late, weekday nights out at Bimbos, the Warfield and the Fillmore. Must know what the Boom-Boom Room is and how to get there. Must dig all kinds of music, have a working knowledge of the ‘80s greatest hits, and be able to karaoke Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” in its entirety with a pool cue. Any air-guitar experience a bonus!
Must, must be able to stay out until 2 a.m. on a Wednesday and wake up by 7 a.m. on a Thursday to help with the kids. No hangovers allowed.
Sports knowledge necessary – a good candidate will have memorized roster and ERAs of NY Yankees and SF Giants, field positions of Raiders and Patriots, and like to watch and discuss them for hours while scratching your inner thigh. Must like beer, too, and have extensive tailgating experience. TiVo skills are key, but manhandling the remote is not preferred.
Should adore picking up his extra socks, boxers and newspapers from the bathroom floor. Should abhor long, sentimental conversations and be okay with closing the refrigerator door.
Should not be a wife. Should not have children. Should be completely unencumbered by anything more demanding than a fern or a wart. Someone living in hotel rooms and out of honor an bar is an attractive candidate, especially if there is free HBO or Toblerone involved.
Should have the energy of a person on a Starbucks Triple Espresso w/ a Red Bull chaser. Should know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em.
No “skinny jeaned” or “halter toped” persons need apply. Rather, pimply, saggy, wrinkly people preferred.
If you are this person, please call immediately -- concert tonight at 10 p.m.
By Annie B. Yearout
Labels: Annie B. Yearout
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