this is what happens when the husband works late

Tonight, Mr. Emery is working late. Which puts me home, exercised, dinnered and keeping one eye on a chick flick (have to sneak those in when the Mister is gone, you know). The other eye is firmly set on the pile of thank you cards just begging to be addressed. 

Man of the house and I have gone on several date nights this week to make up for the late-night work business this weekend. 

Date number one was our one-month anniversary, and Husband let me choose where we went {Spicy Thai, after a quick change of mind at the dimly lit, overpriced Indian restaurant}. And of course, dessert at the Chocolate. I had a few surprises up my sleeve that day, and I am happy to report they went over quite well. And of course, Mr. Hubby was being handsome and perfect and so help me but I am still falling in love with that man.

The next night, we had the cousins over to the lovenest for dinner. That wasn't a date, but it was the same general idea of laughing and carrying on and homemade pizza recipes from the sister-in-law. Not to mention, Maddie has a leaf trombone app on her iPhone.

Speaking of iPhones, I have decided I need one for the sole purpose of the instagram app. That is the gospel truth.

Just when you thought the fun was over, we went with Dave and Julie to a very fancypants restaurant. It was the nicest place we've ever been, and I hid my bewilderment quite well when the lady unfolded my napkin for me and put it on my lap {what have I been missing my whole life by putting my napkin in my own lap??}. I like to pretend nobody could tell this was my first encounter with the high life. And you should have seen how well I cleansed my palate - like I go there every Thursday. Dave and Julie are so good to me.

see? I wasn't joking about the palate cleansing thing

Which brings us to tonight, the chick flick, and the pile of thank you cards that are now growing impatient on the windowsill.

One more thing I feel like I should mention in an attempt to procrastinate:

my hair is the longest it's ever been. 

Except for that time in kindergarten when it almost reached all the way to my bum.

I never used to grow it too long, because 

number 1) I never had a husband who likes it long

number 2) my hair has a mind of its own. And that mind is inclined to think it's a lion's mane, instead of a woman's head of hair.

UNTIL

daddy got me a nice hair straightener for christmas.

bless him. so good at trying to meet our motherly and cosmetic needs.

and I, being the good little girl that I am, proudly ruin my hair with that straightener at least 3 times a week.

I would post a picture of my long and luscious locks [alliteration], 

except i haven't exactly showered since my run today,

and so now it looks like this:

it's fall fashion.

and now the thank you cards are weeping from want of attention,

and that is the gospel truth.