Yesterday my sister in law took Tommy with her to see his Great Grandmother before I came home from work and that meant that I had about an hour to myself. Giddy, I thought about all the things I could do...like squeeze in a quick stop to thitwbar (the hole in the wall bar...remember that?!??), pick up a pack of smokes and listen to music.

Then I remembered that I was pregnant...no seriously, I turned into the bar's parking lot and it wasn't until I put my feet on the pavement that I remembered. I packed my ass back into the car and made a solo trek to the grocery store instead. Way less fun, but I guess a little more healthy for the two of us.

Coming home, I flung the groceries on the counter and quickly grabbed a book (honestly, it was any book...in this case, Mohawk by Richard Russo which I've read a thousand times and I just happen to always have it on my nightstand) and read a few pages until I heard the squeak of the front door and I realized that my mini-vacation had ended, just like that...and I didn't even get tan lines.

Imagine when there are two of them. I'll never get another hour vacation again.