Dear Santa,
I’m writing you this letter
So you can plainly see
That, though I’m on your naughty list
There is some back story.
See, Springtime rolled around this year
And I realised that my
Quota for good deeds and such
Wasn’t very high.
So I sat down and thought really hard
(I think some brain cells died)
And I came up with this brilliant plan
Of being a girl guide!
I didn’t learn a whole lot about the kitchen when I was growing up. It never quite interested me much. There were always distractions like school and boys and clothes and boys and…well, you catch my drift. Cooking was definitely not high on the interest list. But, Mama always told me that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, though, so I have tried on occasion to make something delicious for my hubby.
Hey darlins! After all the work I did decorating our new home (well, supervising the work, mostly), the Hubby decided I should come along to the city with him on his business trip. He’s very very good at what he does, so we were set up in a nice apartment for our stay. He wheeled and dealed, and I spent my time shopping, going to the spa, and getting some extensions. So I decided that while he went to a business dinner tonight, I’d stay in, take a hot bath, and settle in with some wine and television. Perfect day!
You know, it really wasn’t my fault we had to move to a new neighborhood. The women in our last neighborhood were so stuffy! I may be married, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still look amazing, right? And it wasn’t my fault that their husbands enjoyed looking at me and talking to me. My hubby didn’t much mind when I told him we’d need to move. He said he knew I was a hellraiser from the day he saw me doing body shots in that honky tonk. But he said as punishment, I’d need to put our bed together myself while he’s at work.
