The Spousal Unit and I received an e-mail yesterday from a guy we went to high school with who's trying to put together a list of contact info (e-mails etc) for the good old class of '88. It sounds like he's hoping to arrange a bit of an informal 20 year (holy crap) reunion type event. Sylvia and I graduated together and were good friends in high school but didn't become friends with benefits (as the kids say) until 10 years later. We dodged our 10 year reunion but are considering going to this one. It's tough though since it's usually a 9 hour drive and with me dragging my feet for 500 miles it could take significantly longer.
Sylvia is a beautiful woman who doesn't need to be concerned about such things but immediately says, "I'm going to have to go on a diet if we're going to our reunion."
I didn't say it out loud but I was thinking, "You're concerned about your weight? I only have 4 months to actually do something with my life before then."
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6 comments:
I graduated the year after you. Out of pure denial I had no idea my 20th was approaching.
That right there is all the reason I need to have a drink tonight.
Thanks a lot.
What you actually said out loud was, "We don't have to go to the reunion." You should have said this - at least the part about me being beautiful. It would have gotten you laid much more quickly than your actual comment. And you do something with your life already - you take care of our life together!
tysgirl: I'm not sure if your thanks was sincere or sarcastic but since I'm always looking for an excuse to have a drink I'll say, "You're welcome." And really, mid 30's isn't old. It's well on its way, but it isn't old yet.
sylvia: I should know by know that compliments = bedroom time. Sorry about that. And I know I take care of our life together and I'm proud to do it. I'm sure the doctors and lawyers will be both impressed and jealous. Fortunately I really don't give a crap, as long as I'm happy. And you make me very happy.
I'll go fluff your pillow.
Wow, and I thought my husband spoiled me!
Next time someone gives me hell about it, I'm sending them over here to listen to the pair of you.
I got the email about my 20th this year too. How depressing.
:)
You could always take Limpy and say that he's your adopted son.
maggie: The last thing I need is to have people think I'm in any way responsible for that.
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