Better left unsaid

Tonight, John needed to write an article for work. Normally, we're so busy during the day with the boys that all we say to each other are things like:

"This bottle's leaking - will you get me a new nipple?"
"Oof. That's the worst diaper I've smelled since we fed them the prunes and apples."
"I got my child to sleep faster than you did."

So, night time is when we catch up. When all those things I wanted to say fall out in an unorganized mess. How dare his article take away my moments of great thought and adult conversation. Here are the things I would have added to tonight's conversation, but have placed them in the vault of "very important things to bring up sometime but not when John looks at you out of the corner of his eyes when you're talking:

• Thank God I don't have to wear spandex at my job every day (I do not look anything like Lindsey Vonn).
• I hate "dry clean only" clothes. Well, more than that, I hate the moment when I buy them, and think, "I love you so much shirt, I will actually go to the trouble of taking you to the dry cleaners." (This is not true. I never remember to put  dry cleaning in my car so they sit in a big pile where they meet all of their colorful friends I've picked up that will also not be taken to the dry cleaners until I finally give in and toss them in a wash and they turn into a pill-covered version of what they used to be). Sigh.
• One day I will get a pedicure again. And maybe some Vitamin D. I hate winter.

Hmmm. Now that I see all of my highly important thoughts that I contribute to our nightly conversations on paper, I'm beginning to see why John's so tired at the end of the day.