the one with the belly cream

It’s 4:30 a.m., and I’m in the middle of an old-fashioned slumber party.
We’re deep into season five of an unnamed situation comedy DVD collection but I must recall this moment for the record.

We spent the evening at Arlington Cafe, which, until tonight, I had not yet attended but only read about in the police blotter. A nice place. Billiards. Bus loads of bachelor parties. Disorderly conduct waiting to happen, I’m sure.

On the way home, against our better judgement, we made a quick stop through Mac Donald’s, where I purchased the Mighty Kids Meal (read:Husky) and just as I had finished, my sister began to browse through a bag of perks she’d received for securing part-time work at Tuttle’s Bath and Body Works.

Inside, in addition to eye and thigh creams, there was a sample of Mustela’s $60 per bottle post-partum restructuring gel that, with regular use, lessens the appearance of fatty deposits and slackening skin caused by pregnancy. In so many words, we found there was just enough in the small foil package to relieve the stress of a double cheeseburger run at bar closing time. Gross.

She may not have “given a speech at my wedding,” but I don’t think I’d ever exchange this evening for any kind of toast. Now I have to go. It’s hard to think of this scenario without cracking my five-minute spa treatment mask. Love you, sis.

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