I have a reason to celebrate.
Wee One has used the potty all by himself since Friday morning without me constantly running after him every 15-30 minutes making sure he doesnt go in his underwear.
Not once has he tried to sneak off and crap his pants.
You have no idea how deliriously happy I am about this development. No idea.
Altho, when Wee One is outside, he just ‘whips it out’ and pees next to the nearest tree….
Boys are so much fun.
Saturday morning best friend D stopped by. The last time I had spoken to him, I was angry with him.
I do not like being mad at my friends. I am such a grudge holder. I hate being this way.
I wish I could ‘forgive and forget’. It is not as easy as it sounds for me.
Anyhow, D and I did have a nice visit. He looks really good. D has been taking care of himself the last few months.
I never realized the toll his toxic relationship with R. was taking on him the past year or so. Im glad the witch is out of his life. Also the fact that his mom’s cancer has been better with chemo/radiation treatments has made D more relaxed.
D took his shirt off when he was helping me clean and do the pool chemicals. D’s tan is rocking, as well as his body.
I nearly told him so but I didnt think the hubs (who was within ear-shot) would appreciate me checking out my buddy D’s ripped body. I would never hear the end of it for sure.
It is not like I want to jump D’s bones. No way. Just thinking about sex w/ D gives me a nausea attack-eww.
But looking at a nice male body is like looking at a nicely conditioned, beautiful horse, something to appreciate…….
I am at a loss why D cannot get/and/or/keep a decent girlfriend. D has a good job, his own money, a car and a truck, his own place to live.
I have came to the conclusion that:
1. D is too nice, he needs to behave more like a ‘bad-boy’
2. D might possibly be bad at sex
3. D talks too much and is annoyingly loud
4. D needs to be more ‘choosey’ in the ladies area
The last girlfriend he had for a short time, he brought her out for a visit. I nicknamed her Fluffy, for her fluffy hairdoo.
D and I yakked up a storm while Fluffy stood by in her frilly see-thru tank top and daisy dukes admiring her sparkly blue manicure and caking on bubblegum pink lipgloss.
Son #1 was impressed with her. I wasnt.
When Fluffy asked me for a beer, I asked her if she was old enough to legally drink it.
She was, barely.
I asked D “what possibly do you have in common with her and what do y’all talk about? Because I dont think Fluffy has got much going on upstairs.”
D just looked at me, then said, “I dunno, I guess we dont talk a whole lot.”
I am a Pearl Jam addict. I can listen to them all day long.
XM Radio is the BEST thing ever.