On 3-day-weekends I always get so excited. Holidays in Blair’s world = comfy clothes, a blanket, junk food, and Netflix marathons. On any other major holiday, I’ll be happy to spend hours baking your pumpkin pies, or hunting down an ugly sweater to wear… but please, family, no…not Labor Day! I love you, y’all are awesome, but I might consider suicide bombing and taking out everyone if you don’t leave me alone.
I woke up Monday so excited my plan was finally coming to fruition. I rolled out of bed, piled my hair on top of my head, dragged my favorite fluffy blanket off the bed to the couch, got a hot cup of coffee and assumed the position. No sooner than loading up Netflix, in creeps Alex with an announcement:
Alex: We are supposed to be meeting everyone at the children’s museum soon.
Me: No way. What the hell, we don’t even have kids!
Alex: So, it will be fun to see our nieces and nephew…
Me: What! We saw them yesterday. I’m not getting dressed. I’ve deemed it a yoga pants and baggy t-shirt day. It’s already set in stone. Can’t change plans now. Sorry
Alex: You can wear what you have on.
Me: Ew. No I can’t. This really makes me mad. I wanted to lie here all day and be a roly-poly.
Alex: We won’t be gone long.
Me: I’m not going.
Alex: You’re being stubborn.
Me: Tell everyone I said ‘Hi!’
Alex (starts walking away) Well, we’re going to Olive Garden after and you’re going to miss the breadsticks.
Me: Okay, fine……………. I’ll get ready. Why didn’t you just start with that?
The day actually ended up being pretty fun. I do love my family, but sometimes I just want to forget we live five minutes away from my husband’s family and go into bear-style hibernation and avoid everyone. Sadly, food can literally convince me to do just about anything. Take note, people!