Confessions Of A Domestic Failure. Bunmi Laditan
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He reached for me and wrapped his arms around me, massaging my back.
My danger alarm went off, and I gave him a quick shoulder squeeze.
“Watcha doing there, buddy?” I asked.
He purred in my neck. I knew exactly what he was doing, but seeing as how I’d just gotten Aubrey to bed fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t had a chance to shower since...she was born, not to mention spending a day being drooled and spit up on, I felt about as sexy as an ingrown toenail. We really should have sex soon, it had been too long. Just not tonight.
“David, David,” I said, backing away from his neck nuzzles. “I haven’t showered in forever. I feel like a moldy dishcloth. Rain check?” I felt terrible. Minus-twenty wife points.
“Awwww,” he said, and kissed me tenderly. His lips were so soft. Those lips. I loved them the minute I first kissed him, all those years ago in the rain outside of our office building. We’d been friends for three years and neither of us knew that the other had been harboring feelings until that kiss.
I kissed him back and sighed, remembering the simpler days when my hair was clean and we could spend an entire Saturday morning snuggling in bed.
He pulled me into a spooning position and began exploring my body with his hands. I yelped self-consciously when they grazed my stomach. I still couldn’t bear him feeling the loose kangaroo pouch Aubrey had left me with. Hot shame shot down my spine and I covered my abdomen with my hands, protecting it from his.
He sensed my discomfort and placed his hands over mine. “Hey,” he said, in the most gentle voice I’ve ever heard him use. He touched my face and whispered into my ear. “You’re beautiful. All of you.”
Butterflies danced around my stomach and I felt so moved, tears welled up in my eyes. I loved this man. I turned toward his warm body, gazed into his brown eyes. He meant it. He really did think I was beautiful. I kissed him and almost heard the rain from that evening so many years ago hitting the pavement.
Thirty seconds later we were breaking our dry streak. It was fantastic—it always is, even with me insisting that the lights stay off lest my jiggles be seen. Afterward he hugged me tight, as if afraid to lose me again to the world of mother.
“I miss you,” he whispered into my ear. Tears sprang into my eyes again. Dang hormones. I missed me, too.
I wished I could promise him that I’d be this person, this loving, giving, sexy person again tomorrow night or the next night, but I couldn’t. I tried to squash the feelings of guilt swirling around my psyche.
I kissed his cheek. “I know.”
He turned over and fell fast asleep. Normally I would, too, but I couldn’t quit my thoughts.
I tried to think about something else. My very first playdate. Tomorrow.
I decided to dress Aubrey in her pale pink jumper and heather-gray top with the matching gray booties. She looked like a baby model in that ensemble. It was made by some fancy Italian designer. Joy gave it to me as her way of apologizing for #BabyNameGate.
I’d actually tried to invite Joy. After all, Emily Walker wouldn’t be worried about Joy stealing her friends. Emily Walker would be secure in her friend-getting abilities and say, “The more the merrier!”
But, of course, Joy had to get all weird. “You met this woman while discount shopping and are going to her house?”
You’d think I was taking Aubrey to an abandoned meat warehouse at midnight. Classic Joy. She decided against coming, which was fine by me. Anyway, she had tons of friends from her scrapbooking club, book club and cookie swap. I’d asked if I could join the cookie club once, but all of the cookies have to be homemade so it wasn’t a good fit.
I wiggled in bed a little, getting myself comfortable.
I was almost asleep when I heard David say, “Do you smell yogurt?”
Isabel’s party was in an hour and we were ready.
I texted Isabel and told her that though I’d invited my sister she couldn’t make it and I’d be coming alone. She’s so sweet, she offered to talk to Joy directly but I let her know it’d be a lost cause.
Aubrey looked absolutely adorable! I need to submit her photo to modeling agencies, seriously. I showered, brushed my teeth, and put on foundation, mascara AND lipstick. I was wearing a dress that fit like a (slightly tight) glove and I felt incredible. I should do this every day! I didn’t have time to make the Lemon Poppyseed Cake, so I would be picking up a dozen doughnuts on the way there. Wish me luck!
11 P.M.
Well.
I’m not even sure where to start.
Aubrey and I arrived at 10:15, just a bit late. There was a long line at the drive-through for the doughnuts.
When I got to Isabel’s house I rang the doorbell and was greeted by a woman with red hair holding a clipboard. She asked if I was Ashley, scribbled something down and gave me a name tag with my name already on it. That didn’t immediately strike me as odd. I’d never been on a playdate. Maybe there are so many moms that they wear name tags when getting to know one another.
She led me to the living room where eight other moms with babies in their laps and toddlers walking around aimlessly were watching a video on the large flatscreen. The woman showed me to the only seat left available. At that point, I wondered what we were doing, but I saw Isabel smiling at me from the left of the television screen and figured this was some kind of chick flick movie time.
Then the film started. Wait no, the INFOMERCIAL started.
A woman in a bikini wearing some kind of linen girdle popped up on the screen. “Are you ready to feel sexy again?”
That’s when I started to feel like an idiot.
“In just three hours you’ll feel the YES Wrap start to shrink your belly fat and trim your waistline! Get ready for a lean, mean tummy! I love my YES Wraps and you will, too!”
I watched in stunned horror for the next twenty minutes as women mummified their abdomens while animated fat cells floated out of their bodies. Finally the video went to black and Isabel walked to the front of the room holding a green and white box with YES Wrap emblazoned on the sides.
“Does anyone have any questions?”
I knew I shouldn’t have raised my hand, but I couldn’t help it.
“Is this the playdate?” I asked.
Isabel fake smiled at me. “Absolutely! I’ve invited all of you here to make some friends and learn about a product that has helped moms around the world lose weight naturally.”
I went on. “Right. So you invited me—no, targeted me—because