Did I say I was going to take advantage of Mother’s last few days here? After just 1 night, I may have to hang up my drinking shoes. Sad, sad, sad.
Meshegne decided on Saturday that he wanted to go out. I jumped up and said “OK!” seeing as how he really never wants to go out anymore. He even took me to my favorite pub AND threw darts with me. That’s where the trouble began. Just to give you a little background, Meshegne is a true dart master. Back home, we both played in dart leagues. He played in the league that was one step away from GOD-like. I played in the league that was one step away from the gutter–oh wait, that’s bowling. You get the point. I didn’t suck, but I wasn’t nearly as good as Meshegne. I digress. We played darts. I played God-like. He did not. Much celebratory drinking ensued.
Helpful hint: don’t mix vodka cocktails for staying in, with celebratory shots of tequila when you’re out. Topped with bottles of beer. Never a good combination–especially at my age.
Needless to say, my “mother-of-the-year” nomination is close to being rescinded, seeing as how I spent most of Sunday curled up in a ball on the couch, yelling “Turn that damn thing down!” and “Where’s your father??!!”
I managed to watch about 2 minute of football, think about the laundry, wolf down a burger and a soda, and nap for 6 hours. I guess I’d better pull out the Geritol and Depends, seeing as how my birthday is pending and it appears I need to trade in my ID for an AARP card.