I'm really not that busy

Finding hilarity in the mundane since 2008

Wire hangers, tequila, and boring perfect families

On Friday I had a great post worming around in my head, but no time to write it.  The idea was born very early Friday morning, with this:

Clearly the post title would have been some play on “No Wire Hangers.”  I was leaning toward “Wire Hang-ups.”  It was going to start as a rant then morph into a sweet post about my husband, our marriage, and how our relationship works.

Then I went out with friends Friday night and Mr. Tequila erased most of the post from my brain.  All that’s left is the rant, and I’ve completely lost all perspective on that now that the hangers have been removed from my drawers.

Wait!  It’s coming back to me…

No, just gas.  Sorry for the false hope.

Keep your finger’s crossed that Tony pisses me off again or I may have nothing to write about.  Seriously, Jack has been completely normal.  Cooper has been sweet.  The cat’s not even pooping under the bed anymore.  Damn perfect family, where’s my fodder?


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