Earlier in the week my dear husband called me up while I was at work.

“I have a.. thing I have to go to Saturday night, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” he said.

“What kind of thing?”

Pause. “Baby, you know I love you. You’re the light of my life.”

“What kind of thing, Jack?”

“It’s just a mumble mumble

“A what?”

“A mumble mumble.”

“…A Republican Men’s Club Dinner honoring Senator David Vitter.”



I grudgingly agreed to attend with him, knowing well that he would OWE ME BIGTIME, which would hopefully make sitting in a room with 300 Deep South Conservatives worth it.

The dress I had planned on wearing, the dress I call my Stepford Wife Dress (I swear, it looks JUST like one of Those Dresses), was too big (Yay!!), which meant that it was necessary to go shopping for Appropriate Clothing. Jack was all too supportive of the whole Shopping Experience, and we were both delighted to discover that I am now solidly into the size 10 category (down from 14 to 16ish at the start of the year. Double Yay!)

We finally found an Appropriate Outfit (after a lengthy search for something that would not make me look like a private school teacher or a Junior Leaguer), one that will hopefully still fit (or be alterable) as I continue to lose weight. Jack cheerfully suggested that I also get jewelry and shoes to match (gotta love that guilt!)


Halfway through the first speaker, in the midst of Dem-Bashing jokes, Jack leaned over to me and whispered, “This is the Nazi Party. Don’t let them know of your jewish heritage.”

“Thank you for that advice, Mr. Goldstein,” I whispered back.