This morning I helped Mom and Dad move a truckload of mulch from the back of their pickup to the flowerbed. Mom and I got the mulch from the local recycling center for FREE. I have some here at my house to use in my flowerbeds, but need to get more. I only have about half of what I’ll need to finish it.
When we were cleaning out the truck bed after getting all the
wood chips mulch out, I mentioned that Chrissie and I were planning to go to a movie in a couple of hours. Mom said, Oh, Sex and the City? I’d already told her of our plans. Then Dad said, What movie?
Here’s the confession part: I am 38 years old. I have 3 children and have been through a marriage and a divorce. I’m raising two teenagers and a tween. I’m proud of the lessons I’ve learned and who I’m turning out to be. I was
mortified embarrassed to say the name of the movie in front of my dad because it has the word S-E-X in it.
I didn’t say it, so Mom did. Oh, from the tv show? Dad asked. Yes, I said, as I wished I could crawl under a rock.
What is that? Why in the world would I be embarrassed by that? I wasn’t standing there in front of my father talking about ME having sex, which would be awkward and a good reason for embarrassment, I believe. Good grief.
And another thing. . . the movie was really good. I do not know why I cried through almost the whole thing. Not sobbing or constant crying, nothing crazy like that. Just little moments of tears throughout the movie after the first 30 minutes or so. I think I may need antidepressants.