Lissa-Like It-Or-Love It

This post is for the members of the "WWKD" and anyone who is just plain tired of hearing their single friends brag about their wonderful adventures in dating. I know some of you are not familiar with with the "WWKD" so I will clue you in. It is a very elite society. Members go through a ridiculous hazing process. I mean rigorous physical and mental preparation to qualify. Plus your name has to start with the letter "K" Unless you pass the 500 page questionnaire  or buy me dinner. We almost got everyone to get matching tattoos but eventually we decided on bracelets. To save money we just got the "WWJD" ones and made the "J" into a "K". We're in a recession  in case you didn't notice. But I am going off topic. So here is the deal. The married women in our group have some complaints. So they have come to me, the president of the "WWKD". For the record I became the designated leader by majority vote. Actually I just nominated myself. It's only  fair since all of the other members have better hair & better boobs than I do. Plus no one wanted the job. Now back to the problem. Evidently the single gals think that we need to hear every stinking detail of their dates.  For some reason they are under the impression that since we have been dragging the old ball & chain around in the deep end of the pool, I mean married, that we are unhappy. So I guess I am going to have to set the record straight. Here is some insight, straight from my own boring, I mean wonderfully, fulfilling, married life:

YOU SAY: My newest beau is 10 years younger than me, has washboard abs, drives a Porsche and looks just like David Beckham .

I  SAY:   According to the Carnies they sit at the dunk tank at the local fair, my husband  looks like Stone Cold Steve Austin on a BINGE. He also drives a 1996 Chevy pickup truck  & mows the lawn with his shirt OFF.

YOU SAY: He cooked me the most fabulous dinner, from scratch.

I SAY:  He cooked boil-n-a bag rice SANS the bag. He also put the TV dinners in the oven and left the plastic wrap ON.

YOU SAY: He brought me flowers and took me to that expensive dessert bar.

I SAY:   He stopped by Subway and brought me home not 1, but 3 cookies. He also got us a great deal on our insurance by switching to Geico.

YOU SAY: We had a romantic, passionate. intimate night on the beach.

I SAY:  While my husband snored, I ate Triscuits in our bed and watched True Blood  Sunday night.  I'm pretty sure there are still some crumbs left under the covers. So all I have to do is hit the button on my  Homedic Sound Machine and let the waves of passion begin.

Hopefully it is now obvious to you . The married gals of the "WWKD" really don't need  or want to hear  stories about your wild weekends. We don't live vicariously through you. We don't have to. Anyway even if we WANTED to. We just do not have the time.  We are too busy trying to explain to our husbands the proper way to cook boil-n-a bag rice.

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