… and I love it.
So, a couple of days ago we’re working out our repayments for our new Sea change house. (Tee hee hee, excuse me while I repeat the words ‘our Sea change house’ for forever).
We’re like “ok, I think this will work.”
It will work. But we just have to be a bit more careful with our money. No random purchases and go out here and just eat there and buy those shoes because what the hell.
We need to be a little careful. Mindful. We’ve gotten used to a very relaxed way of living, and now we need to be considerate of where our money goes, because not only will we be paying off our Sea change house (tee hee hee) but we also want to save on the side so we can slowly, do the place up, and renovate areas while we’re living there.
This conversation, literally happened on Monday night.
Today, Wednesday. We’re driving home from the shops after running around all day, and Hubbie suddenly turns to me:
“I feel like dinner out tonight.”
I withhold a big smile creeping onto my face. I purse my lips and he’s grinning, waiting.
“Well we might as well take advantage of our local while we’re still in the area.”
He laughs. “You’re shocking.”
Hours later, and we’re at a reliable local, TGIs. It’s loud, it’s bustling, we can sit in a booth and hole up baby girl at one end (until she climbs under the table) the food is moorish, and of course the crayons and free balloon are always entertaining.
For baby girl of course.
And then this:
We shared something calling itself a ‘chocolate malted turtle,’ or something like that. There was warm, moist chocolate fudge cake, chocolate malt icing, ice cream, and caramel sauce.
Oh My Gosh. This thing should never be shared, ever, ever, ever.
It was so insanely good. It was a dessert orgasm, that’s what it was.
And sitting there eating all this food, eating out, days after saying we need to watch our money more, we were thinking the same thing.
‘We are so bad.’
But, I love being bad.