Sunday, August 9, 2009
I feel like a spy. In my imagination, I am one half of a top secret crime solving duo. By day, I'm a mild mannered mammy whose greatest daily thrill involves catching the half off specials at the local supermarket. By night though, I am a sleek, sexy, seeker of justice who does NOT, I repeat NOT smell of baby vomit.
Our 92' Omega becomes a high powered vehicle somewhat reminiscent of the batmobile but without all the batty paraphernalia. Like me (well, my midnight persona anyway) it is fast and fierce. It does not have a backseat (gasp!) There are NO childlocks (double gasp!) There are NO CARSEATS (Oh my sweet mother of god!)
In this fantasy, I am slim and trim with an AMAZING gravity defying rack which no nursing bra could EVER contain. I am zipped into a black, vinyl catsuit and there is not even the slightest hint of jiggle in the belly area. I maintain my figure chasing criminals and using my incredible martial arts skills to take them down.
I do not know the meaning of the word "Stretchmarks."
For now though, it's bucketing down rain and I am merely a mom with an overactive imagination and two sleeping babies in the backseat who is way too impressed with mobile broadband and being able to blog while on the road home from nanny and granda's.
I wonder if that catsuit's waterproof?