Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Secret Lover

I have a secret lover. Well, it's not really a secret anymore. You see, I've been pining away for this relationship for years, dreaming of it in my sleep. Oh, the things we could do together! The memories we could create, the cream we could whip.

What?

I'm talking about my brand-spankin'-new KITCHEN AID CLASSIC PLUS MIXER. (What were you thinking? Oh, you dirty, filthy man!)

Oh yeah, BABY! I've wanted one for as long as I've been out of my mom's house. I've hinted to everyone I know, begged Husband for the past 8 birthdays, Christmases, anniversaries, etc. 8 years have come and gone, no mixer. I got a George Foreman grill once. It was nice but not my dream boy. Earlier in the month, Husband made my dreams come true. "Ok, for your birthday this year, I'll get you the mixer. BUT the refurbished one from Amazon." I was ok with refurbished, as long as it mixed, whipped and kneaded, I didn't care. Then I got the circulars for Black Friday and that's when my life changed.

I stood in line at Target on Friday for nearly 30 minutes to purchase this fantasy contraption. I think I had a tiny orgasm when I actually got the thing in my cart. I guarded it more than I guarded my purse, which at the time, contained hundreds of dollars. (Don't get excited. Most of the time, my wallet contains a Warehouse Club membership card and pennies.) They could take my money, they can't take my boyfriend.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday passed. My new boyfriend remained in his box. I could hear him banging on the inside, begging to be let out. But I didn't have time. There was loads of laundry, lots of things to clean, decorations to be finished, things to do! I wanted to give my boyfriend the proper attention he deserved. Then yesterday came and I MADE time for him. I went to Publix in search of ingredients for a new-to-me cookie recipe, Chocolate/Peanut Butter cups. That's how we would christen our affair; gourmet chocolate and creamy peanut butter. It's like sex in a machine!

Husband played video games, Chicken sang to Hannah Montana and I was happily cutting shortening into flour with ease. My ingredients mixed into a creamy batter while I greased the pans. LOOK MA, NO HANDS!

I overcooked the cookies so they had to get thrown out. But I didn't care.

Thank you, Husband, for making this the BEST birthday present ever.

Except now, you know, you'll have to top this next year. I've got my eye on a diamond tennis bracelet.

No comments: