I decided to switch things up this week and post from somewhere other than my messy and overcrowded bonus room.  I also decided to post alongside someone other than my lone self.

Where am I? you may ask.  Who am I with?  I will gladly tell you.

I am sitting on the sofa in a cozy, lovely room in Park City, Utah.   My darling sisters, sister-in-law, and (slighty crazy) mother are sitting close by.  A fire glows in the fireplace, a chick flick weeps on the big screen, and snacks galore line the tabletops and counters.  We’ve just spent the last five hours talking about our kids.  (It has been my experience that, in the vastness of the Universe, only your mother and your sisters will ever find your children as interesting a topic as you do.)  And the most notable fact?  No husbands or children are anywhere nearby.

Am I having fun?  you may ask.

In a wordyes.

My older sister just turned the big four-oh and we all decided to get away for a little ya-ya time.  My younger sister, who is expecting her fourth baby and lives in Salt Lake, booked a room for us, picked us up from the airport, and the rest, as they say, is eating/talking/shopping history.  We’re only on Day One, and I’m already feeling more excited to go home and be a better wife, mother, and box top collector.  (Okay, I’m going to go home and start collecting box tops.  This is my year.  I’m doing it.  For real.)

The best part?  When we arrived at the hotel, the clerk couldn’t find our reservation.  After several futile attempts to correct the situation, she finally sighed said she was just going to put us in the presidential suite.

Is it fabulous?  you may ask.  Are we loving it?

In a wordyes.

Was it worth leaving my beloved husband and kids for three days?

Yes.

And do my sisters and I really stick together like our fat, post-childbearing thighs on a hot summer day?

Yes.  Oh, yes.

(And a steamy scene just came on the chick flick and I’m trapped here watching it with my mom.  Is that healthy?  Is it right?)

(In a word:  no.)

(Oh, no.)

 

 

 

One thought on “Sisters are like fat thighs: they stick together

  1. I am jealous. That sounds like the perfect birthday bash. And wait, she’s 40? When did that happen. And how is it that I (and you) will be there soon too?

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