Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Martinis on Me!

Recently my husband and I had a night out in Bath, England, while my in-laws took care of our son. We walked all around, eventually ending up in a pub where a seemingly friendly local began telling us about some places to check out. He then asked us what we "do" back in America. Howard gave a brief description of his job, then told him that I was a "childcare provder." The man laughed condescendingly, looked at me, and said:

"Ah. So you spend HIS money."

Wow. What a completely accurate description of my day-to-day endeavors. Why, just earlier that morning I had asked my "hubby" for some cash so I could go to the martini bar, purchase a new fur coat (I don't have one that matches the Manolos I bought last week), and test-drive the Ferrari that I was planning on making him buy for me. I rubbed my ears, which were weighed down by the 15-carat diamond earrings I had just purchased with Howard's credit card, and smiled. It was like this stranger had known me my whole life...

I don't think I need to defend what it is I "do," since my family and friends already get it. That said, there are many jobs more stressful and difficult than looking after my sweet baby boy and taking care of an equally sweet six-year-old in the afternoons. Like the man in the pub's job, which apparently required him to drink beer and grade papers. He was also waiting for a wife who never appeared while we were there. I just assumed she was running around town on a shopping spree, like so many of us wives are wont to do...

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