I'm on my way to Dallas, Texas for the AOPO convention. Four whole days on my own. Well, and a lot of coworkers. No cats, no kids, no call. As some of you may know, after you have a baby, you measure your free time in minutes, not days.
Love Monkey is already laying down the guilt. "The baby will miss you, the dog will miss you. How will we survive?" Don't feel too bad for him-he went to Las Vegas two years ago for A WEEK when I was 11 months pregnant. Boo Hoo.
I totally expect a phone call, maybe Wednesday night:
"Hi, honey. How'r things?"
"Good, and you?"
-Glug, glug, glug-
"Oh nothing. Just drinking a cup OF YOUR BABY'S TEARS!"
Seriously, he's not a guiltmonger, but sometimes he likes to exploit my Catholic roots. It won't work this time, my friend. I'll be dipping my tootsies poolside, drinking tequila and flirting with the cowboys. Yee Haa! See ya there!