you know, it’s hard being unemployed. oh i work, don’t get me wrong, i take my (unpaid) job of managing our home and family very seriously. but it’s challenging in that, although i am doing a noble and essential job, i am not bringing any bacon into this joint. thus, i have no bacon to call my own. our breakfast meats are “shared”, they’re “ours” and they are definitely provided and maintained, in full, by my huz. thanks huz.
life is good and we have nothing to complain about, but, at times, the imbalance of financial power is frustrating. i used to work fulltime (until i had ronan) and i miss that independence of making financial choices on my own without having to justify it to anyone. i am sure it’s difficult for andy too, with the huge financial burden of supporting a family, but hey, this is my blog!
like everyone else, we try our best to provide what the boys need first. hopefully, this is followed by luxuries we need to machete our way through this dense forrest of parenting, marriage and adulthood. by luxuries i mean booze and lots of it. herein lies the subject of my blog tonight.
andy wears interesting glasses. he is master of all things film trivia. he can be crass, has taken up skateboarding at 43 and black, viking, death or prog metal gives him a skip in his step. i love him. he loves his bourbon. he has a collection of 4 luxury brands and enjoys savoring a night-cap each night, as he should.
i love night-caps too. i feel strongly that we, as parents, deserve them after a long day. it’s like candy for grown-ups and a cocktail can makes us feel more human. and giggly. but i’ve been out of my faves and hate bourbon with all that i am. this week i used my wine budget for an amazing score at value village. irresponsible? yes. worth it? yes! among other booty i found a “threadless” tee shirt in my size with a comic book type storyboard of a zombie doing every single step from michael jackson’s thriller video in order! but i digress…
andy sips his drink and smiles smugly, his facial muscles relaxing with the warmth of the alcohol. he knows i have no spirits to ingest. he also knows i hate bourbon and won’t touch his precious supply, yet, he always seems to be knee-deep in his bulleit, bookers or basil hayden. no justice, no peace!
so i thought long and hard about what would make my huz take notice of my thirst? my needs? verbalizing my desires does not work. i’m the one dealing with these little fockers all day. and today they were in rare form. andy gets to animate in silence, take lunch breaks in sushi restaurants with stylish adults and talk about culture, current events and electronics. all this inequality makes me parched.
so tonight i made a stand. i wasn’t about to let him enjoy his fave drink without feeling my pain. i walked into the kitchen, reached up to the top cabinet and pulled out his knob…creek. the second i popped the squeaky cork, his gaze darted to where i held his precious nectar.
“what are you doing?!” he said, utterly shocked.
“making a bourbon sour, want one?
“i thought you hated bourbon?”
“oh, i do. but if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
and i made and drank two bourbon cocktails and did not enjoy them one bit. but i took two for the team. team lisa.
and the funniest thing happened the next day. magically, the booze fund swelled and i was encouraged to head over to the local b.c. liquor store and stock up on my favorite beverages! humph. what do ya know? justice is not just the name of the pitbull who lives in the apartment down the hall.