Honky tonk woman

Beer tastes good. I had a hankerin’ to go to a bar today, any bar, since I haven’t been inside one since last June [what with baby-growin’ and -birthin’ and whatnot], but a cold Labatt on the deck will have to suffice.*

My family’s coming in this weekend to see the little man, and I’m wondering if Iain and I will be able to steal away for an hour or two. But we’re broke, so I don’t know what kind of a “date” we’d be able to wrassle up. You know, it’s a lot harder to put QT into your marriage when there’s a baby in the house. Our quality time usually consists of sitting on the love seat, watching television, until it’s time to go to bed. Not very romantic. I suppose we could reinstitute BPR once Owen is in bed for the night, but frankly, his asleep time is only about an hour or two before our own bedtime, and we’ve got a lot of shit to do each night before then. Laundry, dishes, packing lunches and diaperbags and generally maintaining the flow.

Sigh.

If I didn’t spend so much time on Flickr, or watching horrible edited-for-TV movies on UPN, we probably would have some more QT together.

Duly noted, self.

*I’m so scatterbrained. Of COURSE I’ve been inside a bar in the last year. Several, in fact. Blog Baltimore Happy Hours and post-Ariel Gore readings and all sorts of occasions. I just had to come clean on that. A good blogger doesn’t let false statements float around in the ether without correction.

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