With my Ninjas (Nam, Pop) and very good friend, Marni, in town this weekend, I had a chance to be child-free. And you know what? I didn't forget how to do it. Oh, at first I stuttered. I ran around shoving clean clothes into drawers because my kids were otherwise loved and entertained (read: not in me bum). Then, I even gutted my closet in the name of finding something cute to wear. Marni just patiently waited for the latte to soften its grip while she silently held kitchen bags open for donate-able items.
Finally, we spritzed ourselves with hair gloss, then perfume and were on our way to Old Town, Alexandria. Haven't been there in years and let me say it has not lost its charm in the least. Would've preferred a little less crazy wind and a lot more loose knit jacket but I only have my vanity to blame for the latter. Black anorak Alaskan gear just didn't feel right for a day on cobblestone. I'm not sure blue lips was the answer either.
First stop was lunch. We went to Ireland. Or a little Irish pub that served crab cakes and bacon burgers, same difference. We intensely hashed over problems already hashed over on the car ride down. She let me over analyze my child rearing and I let her order a condiment-free, "on the side" meal so not even the salt granules rubbed shoulders. She and Grayson have that in common. We giggled about the underclassmen perpetuating the Irish bar stereotype. There was one who had Heath Ledger hair and an Italian profile. Another reminded us both of the B characters in Good Will Hunting who probably had one pint too many by noon. He had some volume going and his friends were already lifting their chins in that subconscious push to hush their boy.
Check please! Next stop, off to shop. There was a consignment shop where I tried on two dresses and bought two dresses - score! There was a pet store where I fell in love with a blaze orange Wacky Walker dogleash that is pretty much a bungee cord with a clip. Right. A big day-glo orange bungee cord dogleash and I had to have it (by the way...a-MAY-zing!). Next we walked through a fancy schmancy childrens' boutique where Marni fell in love with a darling bohemian girl (Abby) outfit that cost more than two bungee cords plus consignment dresses combined. I attempted to talk her out of buying anything as I fawned over ridiculously expensive leather plush owl bookends. My credibility took a hit but we both managed to leave without spending a dime. A few doors down, there was a cool Byzantine store that had the most colorful and alluring flatware I'd ever seen. Beautiful bowls, pretty plates, and sexy serving dishes galore but the store owner began stalking Marn the moment we walked in. She held her own. She always does. Sexy dishes or not, I wasn't giving Sir Creepsalot my cash.
Then there was Bittersweet: the cupcake store. It was really a cafe of sorts but for two girls with no agenda and a love of all things excessively frosted we only saw cake. I got the kids a pink one and a peanut butter/chocolate one. Then I got myself a vanilla looking one with coconut sprinkled on top. I don't even like coconut. That's how freaking good that cupcake looked. Here's what was left 49 seconds after Marni left me alone in the car with it while she innocently went into the drugstore for a drink.
I have no shame. And P.S. coconut was the boss of that cupcake.
Finally, we stole off into a coffeehause and managed to create our own Scene One Act Two of: Married Girls Gone Old Towne. Marni had a (pretend) monologue with a gritty looking musician type pouring skim milk into his black roast. Things weren't going well so she ended it with him in front of the register and he (pretendly) stormed out the door to cry in his Morrissey CD. Then I ponied up to the cashier next to my (pretend) first date (who just so happened to - in real life - resemble my husband....how pathetically loyal am I?). Things did go (pretendishly) well and we made another date for the following Sunday. Same coffeehause. We both liked their French roast and laid back atmosphere. End (Pretend) Scene.
All in all, I had myself one fabulously carefree weekend with my girl, Marni. I'm just happy to have spent time remembering what it's like to be someone else's goofy half. Who else, other than her, would walk in silence with me for a block or two, suddenly stop in the middle of a street and yell, "It's banana, chocolate AND cream cheese!" as my thought bubble is saying "I can't WAIT to try out this new dogleash on Sadie!"
We are simple. We are hungry. We are girlfriends. Spending the weekend with her was just icing on my excessively frosted cake.