Tonight I went out to dinner with my super fabulous friend, Daphne. We were having a serious discussion about plastic surgery and why it is AWESOME when she told me her husband would have died a few years ago if he had not had esophageal surgery. Daphne explained that her husband “could not swallow”. I choked on my margarita, the clouds parted, rays of sunshine blinded me in a Mexican restaurant, birds started singing and after years of futile searching, I finally had an answer! I have suffered from this “medical condition” ever since I got married! I could not wait to tell Mike that there was a cure for my affliction and just in time for his birthday!!! Daphne rolled her eyes and attempted to maintain her feigned innocence at my juvenile merriment.
Daphne is actually a bad-ass criminal defense attorney cloaked in the pretty, sweet, kind, moral, stay-at-home mom shroud. About a month ago, she was pissed because her husband was going to be out of town on their anniversary. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I could only wish to be that lucky! Erin’s brain says “Duh, this is a free pass to go get WHATEVER you want.” I asked Daphne what she had always wanted but had denied herself. She looked down shyly, kicked a pebble on my driveway and said softly, “Um well, I have always liked cats.” WEEEEEELLLLLLLL DAMN GIRL, go get yourself a little kitten! Daphne’s eyes lit up, “”Do you really think I should?” Oh Absolutely! I told her. And because I am always right in matters pertaining to vengeance and malice (it is a gift I have) I told Daphne I would even go with her to get the thing.
But here is where the story gets even better because this was also the day that I realized Daphne had balls, big ones, even bigger than mine. Instead of picking out one of the cute tiny kittens at the animal shelter, she fucking picked a gigantic, overweight, toothless cat. I. Was. Stoked. Annnnnd while Daphne admits that her husband was not entirely pleased with their new family member (or our alliance) he eventually came around and started monosyllabically speaking to her again. I viewed this as a Win/Win: Daphne has a happy anniversary after all and an “I don’t know how you made it this long without getting euthanized cat” gets a loving home.
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The moral of this story: I have learned that you simply cannot wait around for other people to make you happy since they will inevitably fuck it up. Once I ridded myself of feeble martyrdom and became proactive about my needs (fine, wants) I began to experience joy on a semi-regular basis.
*Names have been changed to protect their true hilarity from being discovered.
**Author’s note: Daphne’s husband is super cool. Truthfully, I was dumbfounded by his quick recovery. When I brought our precious little inbred angel of a puppy mill dog home from the mall without telling Mike, he was more pissed than when I ruined my car with a bloated chicken.
I am a writer, parent, and generally loose in the world. Yes, I meant what I said. Whatever. I handled it.
