Was it worth it?

Ever had dinner with girlfriends at a bar that has just hosted a Wednesday night (?!) 5k run? A run that has been developed to raise funds for a high school? So, as you are wolfing down your greasy, fried fish and chips, and draining that second Woodchuck, emaciated little runners (high school age, of course) are bopping past you with their toned thighs and their short shorts. Nice. I looked down at my moo-moo dress...I mean, oh so trendy maxi-dress that just happens to hide my postnatal (ok, 18 month postnatal) belly bulge...ok, 18 month postnatal aided by fish and chips and two Woodchucks belly bulge...and feel wildly out of place. Who the hell hosts a 5K at a bar on a Wednesday night? Aren't 5k runs supposed to involve getting your ass out of bed at the rooster's crow on a Saturday morning? That's always been my experience. And, who let those kids into the bar?! Aren't they underage? Oh, wait. They're in college? Shit, I'm old. Pass me another Woodchuck...are you going to eat those fries? I picked a crappy night to go out with friends!!

But, then I recieve this text from my husband..."Pissed on b-room floor b4 bath; shit in tub 2 end bath. Have fun. :)" For a moment I ponder this text, and come to the (hopeful) conclusion that he is not referring to himself. We're too old for that to have been HIS behavior (i.e. out of college, no longer drinking ourselves to oblivion on random Wednesday nights, thus resulting in random bathroom mishaps) and also too young for that to have been HIS behavior (i.e. not of senior citizen-old-folks-home "Where's my toilet?" age quite yet), I can only assume that this is in reference to our 18 month old daughter, Bug. In which case, I first laugh and pass my cell phone around the table to let everyone else enjoy a laugh at my poor husband's misery. I may be old, but I'm not Clorox-ing baby poo out of the bathtub on a Wednesday night! I picked an excellent night to go out with friends!

P.S. Got home and there was a bucket of bath toys sitting on the counter...waiting for their own bath. Guess who got to Clorox the poopy toys? And, what the hell...why not go over the tub again with Clorox...just for good measure?