Saturday, July 11, 2015

Sunny and 75... in his dreams

My husband is seeing another woman. More than one, actually. They show up shortly after his post-shower nap (how anyone can nap after a shower is beyond me) and while I am in my shower, which is convenient for him. That way I have virtually no say about who he’s spending time with for at least 15 minutes in the morning. But I know where I’ll find him.

Every. Time.

He’s in front of the television watching the morning news. He sits there on the sofa with his breakfast, taking in the newscasters’ perfectly coiffed hair and smart little suits. He listens intently to their every word, even though he can’t remember for the life of him what the weather will be for the day when I ask minutes later.

I’ve had it up to here with those dang female morning news anchors and meteorologists…. meteorologistesses – whatever they are. They show up on our television screen with their perky smiles looking all happy and ready to start their day. I bet they’re slurping straight out of the Box o’ Joe hidden under their cheery little desk during commercial breaks.

Spouse will occasionally comment on a new hairstyle or standout ensemble Lexie or Amanda might have that morning. I point out that Jeff’s tie is especially dapper. He barely grunts.

Every so often they will whip out sparkling cookware and utensils and make a fabulous breakfast item like the ultimate breakfast burrito, just to show they can not only feed the mind, but the stomach as well. Showoffs.

Now, I’m not jealous, mind you. It’s not like Spouse has some kind of serious crush. And I’m not concerned that he’s going to text me one day that he’s running away with Courtney and he can’t tell me where, but the weather will be sunny and temps will be in the mid 70s all week.

It’s just that these women make me feel like… well, like me. I mean - I am a morning person. It’s my best time of day and often my most productive. But I don’t have a team to get my hair and makeup down. The closest I get to a manicure most of the time is scrubbing my nails with an old toothbrush. At least I think it’s old.

I do have my own fascination with these people who wake up in the middle of the night just so I will be well informed first thing in the morning. They obviously don’t realize that I forget everything they said before I step out the door, unless it involves a puppy, a contest, or food. I can get news any time – all I want to know in the morning is whether I need an umbrella or sun block.  Okay, I already know I don’t need sun block because I work in an office all day, but sometimes it’s fun to pretend that I see the light of day before rush hour. Not that there is a rush hour in Portland during tourist season because they all walk across the road like it’s paved with molasses.

But I digress.

Back to the television where all good newscasters and weather people live until we leave for work at the obnoxious hour of 7 a.m. Yet, who am I to complain? The news team Spouse is staring at has, in all likelihood, been awake since 3. They probably go to bed hours before we do.  They have no life, they miss all the NCIS reruns, and they have to peel their makeup off before lunch. Those highly successful, popular, intelligent women are no match for me.

Unless they really can make the ultimate breakfast burrito.

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