Friday afternoon. First stop, stock up on booze
Go to hubby's office and am greeted by Gary the receptionist who is making goo goo eyes at my husband
Try to stop hubby staring at Gary so I can wrestle the typewriter out of his hands
The office bike waylays me and starts yacking about how Gary isn't doing his bit to join in with the cost cutting initiatives in the workplace. She points out that she herself has been recycling her tops but when I try to talk to Gary about how he should start recycling his typewriter ribbbons I find him giggling in the corner with Gary over the latest copu of Vogue. They're talking about whether leopard print can work with bright red hair. The consensus seems to be yes, but only if you're Rhianna.
I say, "Since when do guys read Vogue?" and all I get back is some eyelash fluttering and some high pitched giggling. Honestly, they're like a couple of school girls.
Gary begs to come along for the weekend. I've had a few so I say why not! We pick up the kids
.....and drive to the countryside. Hubby tells me that pink doesn't go with brown and that my bum looks big in that dress. I have a bloody good sulk on the car ride but Gary and hubby don't notice.
I notice something is lacking at the camp site that I can't put my finger on. After being informed it is clothing optional I freak out but am too tired to leave. Put tents up in the dark
Wake up to find husband in Gary's tent. Hubby says he got lost on the way to the Portaloo and ended up naked on top of Gary. Not altogether convinced.
Put on a brave face, pop a Valium and pig out on Duck a l'Orange
Spend the day at the spa wondering if my day can get any more shit and what Gary's got that I don't.
Things are looking up!! Gary has been shot in a freak shooting accident, right in the balls. No idea who would have done something like that.
We drive home leaving Gary in the local hospital to have his balls seen to. The kids ask why Uncle Gary was making pig noises in daddy's tent last night and I say I think they were doing a reenactment of the novel Animal Farm.
When we get home hubby locks himself in his room, puffs on a cigar and plays with all the latest gadgets while whispering on the phone to Gary.
Cry myself to sleep looking at our wedding photo and wondering where it all went wrong.
Finally decide that enough is enough with the self pity and that sauce for the gander is sauce for the goose and that I deserve a piece of sausage too and spend the rest of the weekend at the local Bierfest. Wake up covered in Sauerkraut and sausage links. Stuffed but happy.
Hope your weekend was as good as mine! Do spill the beans.