I’ll be honest. I’m easy. Buy me a couple of drinks, act like you think I’m the most interesting woman in the joint, and I’m going to invite you in.
But, if I weren’t a desperate floozy, this would totally be the line that would melt my defenses:
You got my children’s eyes
That’s what you got
Mrs. Wigglebottom had to come to the office with me because the Butcher didn’t want to have to juggle her and the plumber.
Y’all, she was so good!
She whined a little bit while I was on the phone, but by the time I sat down to answer my emails, she was curled up by the door just resting and keeping an eye on things for me.
Then, when we went to leave, she ran around the office meeting all of the coworkers who were still in the office and she didn’t jump on either of them, though she did try to help push the buttons on the copy machine.
And, best of all, when my co-worker went to give her a treat, even though she had been running around like a wild woman, she sat and gently took the treat from her hand, thus fooling them all into remarking about how well-trained and well-behaved she is!
Yes, America, someone called Mrs. Wigglebottom well-trained and well-behaved!
Plus, Earth in general, the Butcher totally rocked the plumber and took care of it all so that I had nothing, NOTHING to worry about.
Ta-da! Hurray! and Amen.
The Butcher and I are having a little disagreement over when the correct time to call the plumber is. I am trying very hard to not be the bitch who just starts yelling and bossing folks around and doing things my way, especially because what he’s doing is taking care of this. It’s not the way I would take care of it, but he’s taking care of it.
I hate this personal growth and learning to respect others shit, I’m just saying.