You know how I wasn’t super excited about going to Brother-in-Law’s Halloween party? Well now I don’t have to… French Mommy has come to the rescue (sort of).
The Husband remembered that he has next Monday off of work and the three day weekend is the perfect (and only) opportunity for us to visit French Mommy until after Christmas (Christmas is in Dublin this year).
And then, after he remembered he had one of his special moments…
I asked what the day off was for and he thought for a moment and said, “Because it’s when Jesus died.”
“Uh, no, that’s Good Friday.”
So for whatever reason that The Husband has the day off, we are on our way to French Mommy’s house for the weekend. A few oil refineries have reopened (re: strike), we have a full tank and French Mommy promises that her local gas station is OK (she could of course be lieing so we end up stranded there… for the record, I do not have a problem with this).
Downside… we’re missing the Halloween party (can you tell that I’m heartbroken? There really should be a sarcasm font). But to let you know, the decision had been made and I was going as a Mad Men-esque housewife and The Husband as a rugby player
(wow, a housewife and a rugby player…. that’s a stretch)
Upside… WE’RE GOING TO FRENCH MOMMY’S! I can spend a weekend cuddled up in front of the fire being spoiled. And the clocks go back so there’s one extra hour of spoiling. And Fifty has even gotten a bath for the occasion (and homeboy needed it… he smelled like bad bacon. Gross). Plus hanging with French Nana in her bar. And maybe if we’re really really lucky, we’ll go to see the Clermont v. Paris rugby match. Can you tell I’m really really excited?