You've probably got to be smart about it. Like, really smart. Like, cunning smart, dastardly cunning, not like Dick Dastardly and Muttley, they are CLASSIC, not cunning. Though they thought they were... cunning.... Anyway, you've got to be a lot smarter than me.
Soo... like 2 months ago I started hiding something from Mr. Price. I had a secret. I started sneaking out, I started casually going places at odd times in the day, I would arrive at our humble abode in different clothes than I left in, I would return sans makeup and with my hair swept up, not down and curly as it was a few hours previous.
He started to notice a change. I was seeing a lot of my dear friend, Carmen, who is a dear friend, but you definitely wouldn't think that by the amount of times I actually see her or talk to her, or the lack there of, but to Mr. Price we had suddenly "reconnected" in a very, very strong way. We do have a lot to talk about and a lot to catch up on as always, mainly, I talk, I mean, bitch about my boss, and she listens. But I wasn't talking to Carmen, I wasn't seeing Carmen. I did, once, when this all started, but Carmen was just a name, was just a person I used as a label for the secret I was hiding.
It started to get tricky. After all, I already told you that I'm not smart about this stuff. I'm not dastardly, I'm not cunning, I'm not smart, I'm a SMART-ARSE, but that certainly doesn't help when you are out and about trying to remain in the D-L and fly under radar, while flying around with a certain....secret.
I feared Mr. Price. I feared what he would do should he find out. I went to extraordinary lengths, clutching my car keys deep in my fist when I was just going to go out for a "run". Who needs their car keys when they go out for a run? Well, if I'm going to meet Carmen at the Arboretum, I need a ride to get there... ugh. It was getting very exhausting. So I've already determined that in order to continue my secret affair I'm going to need to get smarter and definitely going to have to have a lot more energy.
This secret, this affair, was taking a lot out of me. It was exhausting. Trying to keep up with the lies, trying to keep up with the mileage, I mean, EVERY DAY I was seeing "Carmen", I was leaving my happy family of three adorable boys and coming home 2, sometimes 3 hours later, sweaty, exhausted and make up smeared off my face, too tired to lift a finger.
Mr. Price was suspicious. He had every right to be. I wasn't exactly "lying" to him, I was being truthful to an extent. I was going out, and "exercising" but not with Carmen. Certainly not with a girl. I would never do that with a girl, no matter how many fantasies he has, no matter how many drunken conversations we have at bars while he oogles that blonde I determine is much too chubby for my tastes as I declare it would take more than this world could offer for my blood alcohol level to tolerate it and at that point I would be sleeping through it, or it would be statutory rape.. anyhooo, I digress.. as always.
I tell all my friends not to tell him where I'm going. I tell all of them to not breathe a word about it. It's a non issue until I come up with a game plan. I'm going to tell him, I always was, but I just had to find the right time.. the right place... the place that didn't have throw-able projectiles....
I was having an affair.
Mr. Price surely suspected it, and at this point, it had only been a few weeks.
Again, dastardly and cunning I am not.
On this one fateful night I went to leave to see "Carmen"....again, the fifth time that week. We're friends, but she doesn't like me that much, even Mr. Price knows this. NO-ONE likes me THAT much, unless I'm carrying a hefty brown bag of alcoholic beverages.
Mr. Price: "So.. where are you going again?"
Me: "To exercise."
Mr. Price: "With Carmen?..."
Me:"ammm..yeah, that's it, you hit it on the head like a nail-a-roo, good one!"
Mr.Price: "Why do you need your car keys?"
Me: "Cuz we are going to walk at the arboretum, I'm not gonna ask her to drive all the way out here..duuuuh."
Shit.. he knows. I bet he's gonna follow me.
But in true format of our parental lifestyle, Mr. Price was detained to the household with two young kids. I was out, gallivanting around, to return in about 2.5 hours all sweaty and in no mood to talk until I had had, a shower.
I call my Mum in a panic. "Mum, I think he thinks I'm having an affair."
Mum: "How long have you been sneaking around like this?"
Me: "Three weeks."
Mum: "Well, I'm sure he thinks you are having an affair and I think you need to come clean."
shit.
Let's cut to the chase.
I arrive home, Mr. Price is calmly waiting for me, doors wide open (it was a lovely summer night)..
He's on the phone... PSHEW.. to my dad in Australia... I just bought a few extra minutes before my untimely demise.
Strategy: I'll grab the youngest or the most adorable of our two young boys and hold them in front of me as hostages. I'll cowardly hold them over my most damageable parts and dare him to come at him should he hurt a hair on our beautiful children.
He hangs up the phone.
"It was your Dad, the one from Australia."
Me: "Oh yeah, hmm, cool".
Shit, where's a child? I just had one in my arms, those little squirmy bastards, you blink and they're fucking gone in like two seconds..
Mr. Price.:"..."
Me: Fuck.. here it comes... I've been sold out. I'm wide open, I'm a target on a range 20 meters away and he's in a Sherman operating the turret at close range. I am SOOOO fucked.
Just remember: "I get the smart kids and a new sexy apartment, he gets the stupid dogs..."
....
Mr. Price: "You got a gym membership didn't you?"
Me: "Yup"
The jig is up.
Mr Price. "I wanna fucking kill you right now."
Me: "But I'm trying not to be a fat arse after birthing your second child that turned out not to be the 60 pounds that I put on..."
Mr. Price: "You lied to me."
Me: "Yeah, but at least I wasn't having an affair. I was only going to the gym... for you...., and lemme tell you, if anyone wants to knock my boots after grunting my way through 60 minutes on an elliptical they've got mental issues above and beyond the fetish for sweaty, stinky chicks, I mean who wants to hit on anyone after there's a massive wet patch in the "crotchal area" ...
Mr. Price: "Ok I get it... But when they start raping you of your money and you give up in 2 more weeks, don't come crying to me."
Me: "No worries. No crying to you." "See... I wasn't cheating on you... just going to the gym."
Mr. Price: " I think it's worse, it'll end up costing you more than a crappy hotel on the north side of town you could have been having an affair in.."
Shit. Dammit. He's probably right.
Bastard.
