Snack Envy

Dear Ann,

When did playdates get so fancy? I have fun with my playdate group, but lately it has become less about tiring the kiddos out and more about showing off a pinterest level snack buffet. Organic homemade health muffins? Strawberries cut into bunnies? What happened to just bringing some crackers, sometimes?

-Sad Bag of Snacks

Dear Sad Bag,

I have no idea how this happened, but can I be invited, like right now? I’m hungry and all I have in the house is old tortillas and dead lettuce. Keep attending these playdates and eat all the delicious food. Enjoy it. Take some home. Stuff it in your son’s pockets so it looks like he’s the culprit. Serve it to your husband and say you made it. See how long you can get away with it before they notice. When it’s finally your turn to host a playdate, drop a hunny at Whole Foods and dump everything onto your cutest plates and say you made it all. 

Don’t be jealous of their snacks. Remember, you’re the pretty one.

Ciao.

PS. Old tortillas microwaved + dead lettuce + string cheese is kind of a yummy taco, if you are tired/lazy/reallytired enough.

Fancy Feet

Dear Ann,

A friend of mine told me her husband rubs her feet and recites her poetry each night while she’s nursing the baby to sleep. How can I convince my husband to do the same?

-Jealous in Jersey

Dear Jealous,

First, how long has your friend lived in this commune somewhere outside of Portland? Or is it the Land of Make Believe? Do they also sleep atop musical rainbows that stream Cat Stevens and Van Morrison?

Second, back here on planet earth, focus on the things your husband does do, like make the baby laugh, sometimes scoop the kitty litter, and sometimes put the seat back down. Tell your friend you hate her and her perfectly massaged feet and doting husband.  If you can figure out how to get your husband to do this on the daily, well.....this advicetainment column is yours. I retire.

Say 1 hail mommy and get a pedicure sometime this year.