Over this past weekend I attended a wedding of a good friend of mine. It was a beautiful wedding, in a beautiful garden, filled with beautiful people. It was only marred in one way – my husband. Now, my husband has a history of getting inappropriately drunk at weddings and thus being referred to as “that guy”. As in, “Oh yeah, your husband was ‘that guy’ at my wedding.”
For this particular wedding I inexplicably decided to try and beat him at his own game. After the ceremony and during cocktail hour I stood in the bar line double fisting some seriously souped up gin and tonics, I didn’t stop there, once seated I spent more time making trips to the bar than I did socializing at our table.
I knew that this would not end well, but at the tine I seemed powerless to stop it.
My favorite part of the evening came before I lost all control of my senses and had made my way to the ladies room only to discover someone’s grandmother (I assume she was with the grooms family as her grasp on English was tenuous as best ). She was struggling because somehow she had gotten the zipper of her dress caught in her underwear. Next thing I know I am undressing this sweet little old lady on my knees of the bathroom (cocktail still in hand) as I worked her zipper out of her giant granny panties and thus somehow saving the day. It was as close as I got to intimacy that night being too tired and incapable of doing anything other than falling in to bed, completely dressed, when I finally did arrive home later in the evening.
Sunday arrived much too soon and for the first time in her entire life Lucy was awake and in our room at 6:25am, I wanted to crawl inside myself and never come out, her Dad clearly felt the same way. It was a long day for all of us and by far not my proudest moment as a Mom but I think what we all need to remember here is that I got to second base with the grandmother of the groom…
I read last week that the internet is full – there is something like four million IP addresses left. I’m not sure that I really understand what the problem is – why not just add four digits at the end, you know like the post office did? But part of me thinks, ‘shit I really better utilize my little corner of the internet to its fullest’. You know?
This spring has been very busy for us, with both work issues, new house projects, and questions like “how many numbers are there?” and “How do ants take a bath?” I also vowed a few months ago to be more creative with my evenings and started painting which has paid ten fold when Lucy told me last week that when she grows up she wants to “be an artist like Mommy”.
Sometimes I fool myself in to thinking I really have it all together. Today I went to work, after a stop at the dentist for a thorough teeth cleaning. I worked all day, picked Lucy up , stopped by the vets to collect a very very pissed off cat (more on that later). Went home, played a rousing game of CandyLand before making very healthy Asian chicken lettuce wraps for dinner. I managed to clean the kitchen, coax the cat out from under the guest bed and was feeling pretty proud of myself… Until I found three light bright bulbs in my bra. In my bra? It raised so many questions: had they been there all day? Why three? Was this the object of the dental assistants snicker as she laid me back in the dental chair? Was this something Lucy sneaked in to my shirt when I was letting her get to CandyLand before I did? How did I not notice that happening? Or had they been living inside the lining of my bra for months? I honestly cant remember the last time I let her play with the light bright. (Note to all my friends with small kids – the light bright is not a good toy for anyone under ten.)
Whenever you think your finally a step ahead you should really take a closer look in your underwear and reevaluate the situation. That’s my gift to you.
In other news there is a new man in my life:
His name is Spalding Gray-Kitty and he is both handsome and sweet. He came to live with us a few weeks ago and I really couldn’t be happier. He is so much different than Ruka and I think that’s okay, she would have hated him as she hated… almost everything – but with Spalding I can put my feet on the floor and not be afraid that they will be instantly bitten, he doesn’t wake us up at 4:00am with his insensate meowing, and I have to bribe him to get up on the furniture. But he’s already attached to us, he follows us around the house and waits by the door when we get home, of course all that could change depending on if he ever forgives me for the castration I subjected him to today… tough love Spalding tough love.
The rest of our life is pure chaos and non stop talking that it is nice to sit and pet something warm and quiet. One night last week I offered Lucy $1,000 for five minutes of silence. Just five minutes, she didn’t last 15 seconds, which I guess is good since I would have had to pay her in grapes and she’s smart enough now to recognize that grapes aren’t money. Stupid three year old savviness – there was a time just a second ago that I could have convinced her pebbles where currency. It’s all down hill from here my friends.
I drive approximately 97% of the time we go anywhere. I am now really disappointed that I have probably missed this happening dozens of times.