So I have this friend. She is the girlfriend of Husband’s Bestie, so I guess you could call her my bestie-in-law.
Her and Husband’s Bestie spend a lot of time eating out. Taking pictures of delicious food and drinks that they actually have money for and time to do. This past weekend, she took a couple extra days off work and stayed in bed watching all the Oscar nominated movies without anybody interrupting her.
And I guess you could say that her, in combination with the entity that is fucking Snapchat is making me feel like a real loser these days.
Every single morning I wake up to a bunch of “Snaps” from another friend in his early twenties. They are basically a bunch of short videos of him drinking beer, slow dancing with cats and taking shots of gin. It usually includes singing of some sort of Justin Bieber song. And not even the one I like. I just sit there, thinking about the party I had watching HGTV and eating freezies on the couch the night before. If I could figure out how to Snap him back, what would I take a video of? Me drinking a glass of wine and contemplating if I can stay awake long enough to watch a full hour long drama before bed?
Maybe I should ditch the blog and figure out how to use Snapchat in order to give ya’ll real insight into what fucking goes on around here some days.
Then I wouldn’t have to describe how on Friday night I finally get the kids in the tub and they are momentarily not screaming or trying to kill one another. So I walk into another room to tidy up or something equally as glamorous when I hear Destroyer yelling from the tub “MOMMY! Buddy pooped in the tub!”
I wouldn’t have to describe how both children were standing on their tiptoes on one corner of the bathtub. I wouldn’t have to describe a 6 inch long turd floating in the water. And I certainly wouldn’t have to explain to you how I momentarily had to do a double take because in my delirium I thought for a second there was a worm in it.
And MY Bestie could have just “Snapped” me a video of Buddy pulling his penis out during dinner on Saturday and pissing on the dog while I was at work.
Maybe I’m a liar. Maybe my Snaps would be very similar to my twenty something friend. Maybe they would be of me doing a couple of shots of tequila before throwing on gloves and cleaning up poopapalooza. Maybe they would just be of me drunk-snuggling my dog on the couch rather than dry humping him to “Sorry” by JB.
But probably not.
I guess sometimes I just hear about single people’s and people without children’s lives and feel like my standard of fun is so completely different now and it makes me feel a little nostalgic. It makes me feel like I need a weekend off from my life.
Is that a horrible thing to say?
Maybe I should just hate my bestie-in-law for the life she has and continue to be jealous of her movie fest and poutines and steak dinners. It’s probably a lot easier to misplace my frustration and project my feelings of loserness onto somebody else. It would be a lot less complicated than trying to organize a babysitter and make a dinner reservation.
Or maybe I could just invite them for dinner and bring the party home.
Compromise is everything, right?