(At least I didn't have Flock of Seagulls hair, though, so I had that going for me. Which was nice.)
Smiley's Person has returned to Coastal City, having come in 23,993rd in the Big Midwestern City Marathon. I know that I kept serious pressure on Mr. W, who broke the course record, well into Mile, oh, One-Tenth or so, but I decided (because this is also How I Roll) to let the lad have his moment of glory -- after all, he's a Wee One at 22 -- and finish the thing just as I was reaching Mile 9. The children are the future, after all.
Was it cold! Colder'n'a'witch's-left-ta-ta, 'nah mean? But I ran, I ran so far away.
But I couldn't get away.
WAW Herself found it necessary to text me several times the night before -- ignored -- and several times after, and when I sent the kids a snapshot of Myself and Running Buddy in the High Rollers Tent with our medals and yummy sit-down food and dedicated sports massage peeps -- Running Buddy's firm is Major Contributor and so the few runners Chez Firm get to hang with the VIPs (I chatted with a past president of the Road Runners Club of America [and 2:30 marathoner] who, along with hubby, once ran a marathon a month for a year -- just because) -- WAW decided to comment on my appearance not once, not twice, but thrice in 3 separate emails.
You see, now that we both have Someones, we should be all pally-wally. This, I have been assured, is the "mature" course-of-action. The "grown-up" thing to do.
That I have repeatedly told WAW Herself that I am still rather brassed-off, chafed, miffed, nettled, peeved, steamed, and generally vexed -- not to mention angry -- about the way she wigged out and brought Tall Batsh*t Crazy for 2 days' worth of emails from European Capital, and then flipped the switch after the gates of sexual frustration were opened by Signore il Segondo and became Chatty Cathy and expected me to do the same, seems to matter not a whit to her.
Now, in what could not possibly have been a calculated move, she has sent an email asking "may she" borrow my nice carry-on suitcase for her trip to see SiS weekend after next? Okay -- first of all, the mother-may-I routine is incredibly insulting. She was never that polite before. Ever. Second -- uh, what the fark, over? Can't get own carry-on? And third -- why the need for Teh Reveal? It's my custody weekend -- why would I have any requirement to know Where's WAWldo?
