Date Night and a Sunday of Sloth

J is marginally less itchy, so that’s good. Cute W and I still are still feeling unwell.

Nevertheless, we had a date night. It was sort of unavoidable. We’d bought tickets a while back to see Mike Doughty at The Linda. I mean, I’m generally pro-date night, but 45 minutes before the babysitter was due to arrive, I was lying inย  bed, moaning. An hour before she was due to arrive, Cute W was sleeping. But we rallied.

Okay, but here’s the bad part. Last night, I received an email asking if I could do a job at church on Sunday. We hadn’t planned to go to church on Sunday. No one except M feels good, and Cute W actually has to work at a big meeting on Sunday afternoon (I know that’s ridiculous. His organization always has a meeting on Oscar night. How stupid is that?).

So this morning I was looking at the email, and I composed something like, “We weren’t planning on being there on Sunday because 3 out of 4 of us don’t feel good. But if you’re really desperate, I could come.” I asked Cute W, “How’s this?” And Cute W said, “You don’t want to go. You should just say no.” And I took a big pause. Because the truth is, I just totally wasn’t up for going or doing the job. And if I said that I could possibly do it, of course I would end up doing it. So, against my better judgement, I dropped the if-you’re-desperate disclaimer and just said “Sorry.” And then I left to take M to ice skating.

Sometime during the day, I realized that the person asking me to do a church job was the mother of our babysitter for the date night. Which, of course, I had known all along. But I’ve been so foggy-brained that I did not put together these facts to formulate the complete concept. That I am a scumbag who is apparently well enough to go on a date but unwilling to do a job the following morning at church. This all came to me when I was mpt at jp,e not at home. I resolved to send an addendum to the previous email with the deleted “But if you’re really desperate, I could come” line.

I arrived home, and Cute W yelled, “Hey, babysitter’s mom called! She wants to know if we still need a babysitter since we’re so sick!”

I thought that he was yanking my chain. No, he wasn’t.

He explained to me about how he explained to her about our long-ago-purchased tickets.

I sat down and put my head between my knees. “And did you tell her that if she’s desperate I can do it?”

“Yes,” he said, laughing. And I didn’t email or call her.ย  For now, I have no plans to go tomorrow. Hopefully when I do show up, there will not be pointing and muttering.

6 Comments

  1. Cheri

    That is hysterical! Well, hopefully, you’re still sleeping and have no plans to get dressed today. Feel better!

  2. Jenn

    I completely understand and will not point and mutter! ๐Ÿ™‚ I’ve done that before: bought tickets in advance and when the time comes either to sick or busy to really want to go, but soldier through it. Hope you at least enjoyed your show. Rest easy today.

  3. Michelle

    This is one of those things that made me laugh out loud – mostly because it is totally something that would happen to me (and I’m kind of glad it didn’t!).

    Hope you guys are feeling better!!

  4. Michelle

    Also: by “mpt at jp,e” I’m assuming you meant “not at home” – which I skillfully figured out by moving my fingers on my right hand over one key ๐Ÿ˜‰

  5. Ugh! It’s only been up for days before someone finally told me about the spinach in my teeth! See, more evidence that I’m not fully functioning!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *