Friday nights use to be that celebratory event welcoming in a new weekend of freedom; movies, dinner, late nights, dates, parties, shopping, and the occasional juvenile shenanigans.
I'm not saying I have a duck crossing sign (or
2, 3) and I'm not saying that I don't....
Now, Friday nights are just like any other night--except for the occasional dinner date with a 2-year-old, and I am sure you could all imagine what that's like. Sometimes, if we are really ambitious we go to Cold Stone.
Riveting, I know.
But if none of the above occur I can usually be found reading "Goodnight Moon" for the hundredth time, singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider", playing the "lets make animal noises game" while in the bath tub, or lounging on the couch with the world's best cuddle bug who likes to give me slobbery kisses.
I may not be as hip and cool as I use to be, and I may not know about the latest movies, and the hottest parties anymore, but I have something much better.
I have him.
Enough gagging stuff--these freaking hormones are making we nostalgic.
There's a box of Junior Mints and Lemon Heads calling my name.
Happy Friday friends, see you in the a.m. or p.m.