She sat at the computer wondering what to write next. Good Luck Charlie was blasting from the tv in the next room, where her daughter sat watching it while inhaling a chocolate bar her Nanna had given her earlier that day. “Nannas,” thought the woman at the computer, “they really are experts at carb loading and sugar highs” before wondering why she found it so difficult to write when the tv was on. She thought about getting up and closing the door to her study, but that would require effort and she just couldn’t be bothered.
Instead she kept tapping away at the keyboard, wishing that the letters were somehow connected to the tv and just by hitting them with her not so perfectly manicured hands she could magically turn the bloody tv off. She re-read that last sentence three times, trying to figure out a way to make it read better, but then looked at the time.
“5.10pm. Shit. I’d better get downstairs and think about what I’m going to cook for dinner tonight”, she thought. But then she remembered that she’d taken some steak out of the freezer that morning and knew there was some salad in the fridge, so that would do.
With the ‘what should I cook for dinner’ crisis averted, her thoughts turned to funny things she could write about.
Maybe the readers would get a laugh out of reading about the time her husband insisted on taking his good sweet time when choosing which $40 rolex to buy in the back streets of a very foreign country, while his wife glared at him to “hurry the fuck up before we both get arrested.”
Or then there was the time they were discussing what songs they’d like played at their funerals, which was a bit weird, but it’s kind of how they roll. He couldn’t decide and announced that the next song on his mixed tape playlist would do. They waited patiently for Bat Out Of Hell to finish before hearing Frank Sinatra belt out ‘I Won’t Dance’.
This then led to quite the trip down memory lane where she whinged that the only time he’s ever danced with her was at their wedding, but then he reminded her of the time he danced to Footloose with her Aunty at her cousin’s wedding and they both laughed so hard at her Grandma calling him ‘snake hips’ with the borderline inappropriate moves he was introducing to the shocked onlookers.
But then she remembered the time she was 8 months pregnant and sitting in the front seat of her friends car with two happy meals perched on top of her very large stomach and decided to tell that story instead.
She’d been out at the movies with a girlfriend, seeing some chick flick that their husbands weren’t remotely interested in and on the way home they decided to pick up some maccas for the kids. Because, you know, as if the husbands would have thought to feed the kids.
Being 8 months pregnant and basically being able to eat whatever she liked without having to worry about shifting the kilos until after the baby was born (such a sensible approach, don’t you think?!) she suggested to her friend that they grab some chocolate to inhale on the ride home. Her friend agreed, leapt out of the car and ducked into the nearby convenience store, leaving the pregnant chick sitting in the car with two happy meals perched on top of her pregnant belly.
She’d ordered herself an extra large sprite and was sucking on it furiously when quite a good looking bloke walked past the car. He stared at the lady, sitting there with two happy meals on her belly, sucking on a sprite. She thought it was odd, because it was dark and how could he see her?
But then she thought ‘Well I am looking particularly attractive tonight and if you looked through the window you wouldn’t know I was up the duff cos you’d only be able to see my face, which although is rather swollen and puffy due to the fact that I’m very heavily pregnant and probably suffering from a rather severe undiagnosed case of gestational diabetes, I’m a bit chuffed to think I’ve still got it!’
She watched the guy watching her and then saw her friend come out of the store with a bag full of more sugar. Her friend stopped in her tracks before laughing so hard, the lady in the car thought she might need to offer her friend a sedative. Her friend got in the car and through tears of laughter said, “Um, you might want to turn off the overhead light that’s beaming down on you and your happy meals. You look a little bit like a contestant from The Biggest Loser before the show has started filming!”
Mortified, the very pregnant, slightly sugar addicted woman reached up and turned off the overhead light, knocking the happy meals off her belly in the process. “Oh FFS,” she muttered. “As if it’s not bad enough that I’ve been sitting here with a bloody spotlight on my enormous head and stomach, looking like I’m some sort of fast food binge, now I have to bend down and pick it all up!”
Ever been mistaken for a contestant on a weight loss show? Or had a husband who thinks he’s Kevin Bacon?
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