Home on a Saturday Night

It's not like I didn't have business to attend to, but G is sick and needs Mommy's chicken soup more than I need the Mulberry Alexa bag.

Somewhere out there in southern Connecticut, a woman has abandoned her husband for girls night, leaving him with nothing but shitty mega pixels, fake moans (I fancy mine realistic) and a jumbo bottle of astroglide. 

On a normal evening I'd see it as my duty to put a stop to such a scene.  The dildo toting, fishnet clad superhero Stella Bliss, to the rescue!

 I'm taking suggestions for official names bellow.   

S showed up at my house, pissed I'm not working, as per the usual manager (read: pimp) modus operandi.

"Could you be an even bigger caricature of yourself?"

I mean, the guy calls me woman. 

"I could beat you with a stick, wear a cape and a pointy hat." 

"The question was rhetorical.  Plus, you're describing a scary ass wizard, not a pimp."  I paused, peaking my head out from the glass panes on the top of my back door.  He isn't allowed in. 

He had his back turned away, head cocked sideways as if he'd never seen a sunset.  S, always perfectly suited and coiffed with a shit eating grin to boot, looked too city to be hanging out in the 'burbs.  Heads turn and eyebrows go up.  There may also be some lady whistling.

"Wizards are pimp," his face and pointed finger were suddenly pressed up against the glass.

 "Take the FACKIN' night off, okay?  Give the little one a kiss for me, and make sure you get in your cardio, woman"

I came off my tippy toes and waved goodbye with one finger. 

Nice to know there's one man in my life who cares about my kid.  Douche mongrel, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get rid of his daughter for the rest of the weekend.  But then I get to be the one who makes the soup. 

I might have turned my back on the whole housewife thing, but there was one recipe I kept. 

While Smart Pop and Hannah Montana isn't as glamorous as my Agent Provocateur, there's no where in the world I'd rather be on this Saturday night then curled up on the couch with my feverish little girl.