Butt Lovin Money

Omg. The first time I heard that phrase said to me I was probably the most hoppin mad Swede you ever saw. I laugh hysterically at the image today. I think I've mellowed with age (well, maybe just a little).

Danielle had just come home from visiting her mom and she had wanted something. Her mom said, "Your dad and Jode can afford that for you. They have butt lovin money!" I was so angry. I'm sure whatever it was that Danielle wanted we probably scored for her but I could NOT believe the audacity of her mother. Things have changed. The truth of the matter is that we DID have butt lovin money at that time but had NO appreciation for it (okay, sorry Skip, maybe it was just ME that had no appreciation for it - I'm owning my junk here). And, for the record, Annette (Danielle's mom) and I have made peace with one another and I consider her one of my good friends now. I'm grateful that I have that kind of personality that can forgive and move on.

So, here we are today. Butt lovin money? Hell no! Well, by someone's standards I'm sure we do but nothing compared to the way things were when everything was flowing like milk and honey.

I've had my eye on the Mercedes CLS 550. Red, to be exact (duh). I've also been thinking a Ford F250 to pull my darling equines hither and yon would be pretty sweet (still do, by the way). Red also in case anyone was in a mode of granting wishes.

Just yesterday as I was dropping my little darling off at school I saw a woman driving MY car. What the heck? Her hair was done up just "so". Her make-up was impeccable. She was dressed to the nines (yes I could see because . . .. Hello??? She's driving MY car!). Her face was scrunched up in that constipated pissed off stressed out look. Something just clicked. Is that the way I have to be when I start driving my car? Oh hell no!! That is SO not me. I think my car just fell off of my bucket list. Damn it!

As I was getting my massage and chatting it up with Amanda, I told her this story. She burst out hysterically laughing and said, "Oh my gosh, Jody, there is NO WAY I picture you in a Mercedes. That is so not your personality. You belong in a Jeep Wrangler with your hair blowing in the wind. Totally!"

Hmmm. Jeep Wrangler? Okay, I can work with that. However, can I still please have that F250? I mean, really. I just need some muscle to pull these spoiled rotten horses around. Is that too much for a girl to ask for?