Not Me Monday: Worst wife EVER edition

• I totally didn’t stay out until late on Saturday night (knowing Father’s Day was the next day)
• I wasn’t dancing nonstop at my cousin’s wedding, indulging in a few five or six cocktails (really for the first time in TWO YEARS, thanks to pregnancy and breastfeeding)
• I didn’t pour myself out of a cab at 2:30 a.m. and stumble into bed, next to my sweet sleeping husband who had been with Baby Boy alone since noon
• When Baby Boy woke up at 7:30 a.m., I didn’t stuff my aching, overfull boobs in his mouth and feel so relived I felt like sending him a thank-you card
• When Baby Boy was bursting with milk (and ready to start the day), I didn’t whine and cover my head with the pillow and, um, let Darling Husband get up with him
• I did not get out of bed at noon, and proceed to try desperately to salvage Father’s Day by making Darling Husband some bacon
• I am winning some kind of Best Wife Ever award for this, I think …