The Adventures of Mrs.Movie Snob

My husband has taken a mistress. It's time to come clean. She's been in our lives now for a little over a year. In fact, most of you know about her. It may surprise some of you that I am reacting so calmly and haven't gone full Latina . (A fate to which he has been warned) At this point, however, I feel it is more beneficial to the three of us if I not only accept her but embrace her very existence. Put down your pitchforks. Her name is "Father's Creed." Matt's book. Yes, the Sully family has a new member. For now anyway. She visits him most days at work. She is waiting for all of us every night when we get home. And I'm pretty sure she's along for most of our outings. Matt knows her intricately. And I am happily, finally , getting some one-on-one time with her too. I don't write this to grumble. I'm over-the-moon proud of "Father's Creed." And I'm very much enjoying Matt's excitement at each milestone. This ...

Sunday afternoon at a grocery store in the suburbs. I haven't witnessed such unbridled egomania since I watched the news last Black Friday. Niceties are thrown out the window. Road rules are forgotten. (Stay to the right!) The volume is turned way up and your only defense is to keep moving, and keep moving fast. If you abide by the rules, you'll get in and get out, groceries in hand and if you're lucky with very few defensive wounds. Today, I was in the midst of this mess. All was going well. Then you get in line behind cash-and-coupon-Clara. You know who I'm talking about. She's in her early 50's. She had a change purse. She had a coupon organizer. She had a question about every damn item scanned. She had all the time in the world. What she didn't seem to have was a damn clue. I stood watching her. I didn't have much choice. I was about 4th in line and the people ahead of me were absolutely fuming. And just when we were about to make some headway --...

So here we are kids. 2019. The future. Even as I type that date it seems surreal. Like I'm going to wake up at any moment to find that this has all been a dream and it's really still 1990. Like most other couples we know, we rang in the new year very low key;  dinner with friends and then a few pints and some karaoke at our local pub we've aptly nicknamed "The Winchester." (Bonus points if you get that reference) Christmas always comes and goes like a hurricane and even though we wanted a "quiet Christmas, just us, " the holiday season is always a chaotic to-do list; shopping, cooking, parties, school assemblies. By Dec. 31, I am both mentally and physically exhausted. Add to that a few bonus days off of work, leaving my internal clock flashing 12:00. I heard Matt ask more than once, "What day is it?" More than once, I had to check. And then BOOM!, it's the New Year and we're all supposed to get back to adulting, schedules, school...