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I did promise a hot pink bikini shot for your birthday #1Hubby, so enjoy
#1Hubby turns the big 4-0 today.
Please immediately note that I was a child bride. He is years older than my ever youthful self. Five and a half to be exact.
The extra half totally makes all the difference.
To celebrate his milestone I had two choices :
1. Send him to the AFL football grand final like a selfless, caring and generous wife.
2. Take him on a child-free mini-break like a selfless, caring and generous wife who wants in on the child-free time.
So I went with option 2, because I know #1Hubby would be all kinds of bored and lonely without me there. Heh.
I stockpiled frequent flyer points to get us both to Singapore.
I held covert phone meetings with his boss, to organize a week off work without #1Hubby actually knowing about it.
I whined and begged and bribed the #1Grandparents to 'take one for the team' and babysit / duct tape The Feral Threesome.
Then I gradually covertly stashed #1Hubby's best summer clothes without him realising half his wardrobe was suddenly missing.
I came up with a credible reason for him to take me to the airport at 3am, preparing him for 5 and a half days without my stellar parenting assistance (because the half totally makes all the difference).
And so it was that #1Hubby has spent the past few months martyring himself to anyone who will listen, telling them how I'm going away to Singapore on a blogging trip over his 40th birthday, leaving him alone, to solo parent, without party or celebration or celebratory bedroom time.
When not martyring himself, he's been all over my to Tweet that #1Hubby would really like to go a Carlton match...because clearly I am super influential and able to get free trips at the click of a carefully worded 140 character or less Tweet.
Ahem. Just call me K
I've stoically put up with all his whining.
Because, besides the trip, my stoic patience is my gift to him.
Clearly this is a scheduled post. I am not dedicating valuable child-free shopping and cocktail time to blogging. So I can't tell you his reaction at the airport when we were handed 2 boarding passes instead of one. I can't detail the shed words that came out of his mouth when he, the Apha Parent, realised that neither of us would be present to supervise our beloved children for the next five and a half days.
Just know that it was (or, will be, at the time of scheduling this post) epic enough to earn me future actual blogging trips to conferences - be they real or ficticious. Ahem. Exaggerated in duration or not (I'm yet to find a real week-long blogging conference).
And it for damn sure better earn me the child-free trip to Vegas when the time comes for my own 40th, that I've been subtly dropping hints about since I turned 25 for real (the first time, not the consecutive 8 years).
As soon as I schedule this post I am going to Google topics of conversation. Because we haven't been alone without our kids for more than a few hours in the past seven and a half years (because the half totally makes all the difference).
Next week I will console myself over the end of the child-free trip by blogging its awesomeness for you. You're welcome.
Image Credit
It says nothing about blogging or YouTube though.
