Two left feet

I was invited out to a bachelorette party last week. It was a small group of us and we started with dinner, then off to the new casino to have a few drinks at the piano bar on the 15th floor. It was very nice. Then off we went to Pepin's for some salsa dancing. The second we walked in, the bachelorette was whisked away on the dance floor. The nice thing about this place is that people come to dance, you don't feel like a piece of meat with guys trying to hook up. Most folks just come for some great dancing. I was next to be asked and warned the guy that I was not any good. He said no problem, and off we went. I tried real hard and did my best to let him take the lead while he spun me around. I felt like I did alright and went back to my seat once the song was over. I danced a bit with the other girls and it wasn't long before my next invitation came along. Just like I had before, I warned him that I wasn't very good. Once again, he said no problem and off we went. The song was rather fast and he immediately started spinning me all over the place. I tried so hard to stay in step, but each spin was increasingly more disastrous. Within seconds, the guy realized how bad I really was. He sure didn't waste anytime. He stopped dancing and took my hand and led me back to my seat. Whoa, the song wasn't even over. Did he really just give up on me that fast? I say down and wasn't sure if I was embarrassed, angry or just plain ole hurt that I was dissed so fast. I ended up laughing about it, but I took a small hit to my ego! Oh well. I guess that is what I get for dancing with another man. Next time I will bring Mr. B with me. According to him, I am a great dancer!

Tom and Jack escape

It was only a matter of time before it happened. Tom and Jack spend a lot of time rubbing up on the fence. Since I am not a farmer girl, I can only guess that they are itching themselves. They finally rubbed enough that the fencing started stretch and create bigger holes. I sent Miss P to check on their water and she came back screaming that they were gone! I ended up finding them down the road. They had actually crossed the bridge by our house that goes to the park and were making their way to the swings. A nice couple led them to an enclosed pasture and left them there. Mr. B had to go to the store to buy a goat collar just to get them home. They really put up a fight. Mr. B fixed the fence and hopefully they stay put. I can't handle looking for goats around my neighborhood on a regular basis.

Snip Snip!

The only way to end the rabbit-like reproduction of children, Mr. B finally agreed to get snipped. It was a long battle that he fought, throwing out all kinds of ridiculous reasons. Everything from "I don't have the time to take off work" to "It will hurt". Really!! Maybe he forgot that I just had 4 children in 5 years, each one without a drop of pain medication. I ended up going on STRIKE in an attempt to speed up his urgency to get the vasectomy. Weeks turned into months and I started to panic. Shortly into month 3, he had finally had enough and agreed.

The day had finally arrived and he was very nervous as the horror stories of co-worker who so kindly shared their experience raced throughout his mind. Thankfully the medication he was given to calm him down, took effect. He went from nervous to drunk like in behavior. The next thing I know, he is doing jumping jacks and boxing with the air in an attempt to get his blood flowing so that the medication would be maximized. It was so hilarious to watch, especially since he was nude from the waist down. Once the assistant came in and prepped the area (boy was he thorough), the doctor came in and took over. I stood inches away from the area to be treated because I had to make sure it was done. Within minutes, a couple cuts, a few burns to close the ends, a couple knots, it was over. If I had known it was that simple to do, I would have done it myself a long time ago.

You would think that would be the end of it, however, this particular procedure requires a 'clearing of the pipes' to be effective. What...25-30 clearings and it needs to be completed in a month. Say what! Now all I am hearing as he chases me around the house is "Doctor's orders". I called into my fabulous cousin who happens to work at this doctor's office and I requested that she ask her doctor if I can send my husband to him for the next 25-30 times and he can handle that in his office. He can just bill my insurance. Shouldn't that be covered?

Anyhow, he recovered like a champ and went out with me that night to celebrate. He actually admitted that he would have done it a long time ago, since it wasn't that bad. Oh, Mr. B, when will you learn to just listen to me.