The MILF (Nomad Mom Diary)

Did you hear that?  No? I’m not surprised because I landed very gracefully while implimenting, yet another, leprechaun kick to the side. Today’s kick has been inspired by my featured post: The MILF!  I am really excited to be sharing a husband story. This always makes me happy.  And I am beyond joyous that today’s story, has been written by Lynn Morrison from The Nomad Mom Diary.  She is one of my most favourite writers in the entire blogosphere and she is here on my blog! Woo hoo (another graceful landing, I’m getting good at this!)

The following tale takes place during a family outing at the local drugstore…

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The MILF

By: Lynn Morrison

Have you ever had one of those conversations with your husband that starts: “Can I talk to you about something? You have to promise not to get mad.”

In my house, these conversations typically heavily feature the word “gym” and result in me wanting to eat an entire cake by myself. However, when my husband rushed out of our local drugstore and launched into the above sentences, I knew I was safe. I was not the topic of the day, instead it was going to be the MILF in front of us in line.

There we are, out doing our weekly shopping in the center when we decide to pop into the drugstore for some kiddie vitamins. The girls zero in on the “princess vitamin” box from 50 paces away and I spend most of our five minutes in the store trying to avoid WWIII. I am so engrossed in keeping track of the kids that a bulldozer could plow through without me knowing it. But then I hear my husband laughing in line behind me.

A quick check confirms that my butt crack and muffin top are still carefully tucked away underneath my coat. The kids aren’t doing anything too bad. So, it must be someone else in line. And that is when I see her…the statuesque blonde with the cute little boy in line ahead of me. She is taking forever because she has made the mistake of asking the clerk to gift-wrap her purchase (btw, if you are gift-wrapping something from the drugstore and it is not for a child, something is wrong with you). Right before the critical paper fold I spot the contents – a box labeled Durex. Yep, that is likely the source of the hubs’ giggles.

He practically darts out of the store and hardly being able to wait until we are two steps away before starting in on the comments. Turns out that in the three minutes we stood in line behind her, he has crafted an entire fantasy around the woman and her gift. And he needs to recount it to me asap.

He starts in, “Can I talk to you about something? You have to promise not to get mad.”

I raise my eyebrow.

Undaunted, he carries on, “When a hot blonde woman who is taller than you are walks into a store, you have to pay attention. I mean, I’m not looking, but she was impossible to miss. And she had a kid. So she was a MILF! Can you believe it!?! She was standing there at the counter with her purchases. First she paid for several packages of Venus women hygiene products.”

I interrupt at this point to clarify, “Those were razors you moron, not intimate hygiene products.”

He tosses my clarification aside..this is his story and he is going to tell it exactly as he remembers it. “As I was saying, she was buying intimate hygiene products AND she was gift-wrapping a package of condoms. Can you believe it! She was a total MILF. I am sure that she was going to take them home to her partner and get all dressed up in lingerie and give him the gift. And then he would be all excited…”

(At this point I nearly tuned out. I mean, seriously? We were in the middle of the center of town, dressed in everything we own (it is below freezing here) and pushing a stroller with two kids in it who were fighting over a box of vitamins. There was no way in hell this story was going anywhere I wanted to be at that moment. But because I love him, I stayed with it.)

“…he would open the present and THEN the kid would wake up. And as she walks out of the room to go and deal with the kid, she would say, ‘This is why I got you condoms as a present’. I gotta go home and email my friend Al about this.”

That, my friends, is what happens to your fantasy life when you are old and married and have two kids.

The End.

P.S. To those of you who don’t have kids, you are welcome. I am happy to provide you with a daily reminder to take your birth control pills.

Lynn Morrison is a smart-ass American raising two prim princesses with her obnoxiously skinny Italian husband in Oxford, England. After a long day of struggling to remember to say “chap” instead of “y’all” or “dude,” Lynn likes nothing better than to curl up with her Macbook and a glass of wine and write thought-provoking essays on why sweatpants are the new black or why it is impossible to suck it in for eight hours. If you’ve ever hidden pizza boxes at the bottom of the trash or worn maternity pants when not pregnant, chances are you’ll like the Nomad Mom Diary. You can also find Lynn over on BLUNTmoms, Facebook and Twitter.
 
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5 thoughts on “The MILF (Nomad Mom Diary)

  1. This was just an all-around good read, but I’m really entertained that your husband is calling razors “intimate hygiene products. It sounds like something my hubby would say – yeah, the guy who thinks Vagisil is lube.

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