I may have given the impression that I imbibe large quantities of alcohol. Alas, it is more wishful thinking than anything else. I'm not a teetotaler, I'm just cheap and good liquor is expensive. But last night, the moon was in Venus* and the stars were smiling upon me and so I drank. Kevin, my stepfather was kind enough to play bartender. I even made him brownies this morning as a thank you, although they never grew legs and made it next door.
Before you get your panties all in a knot, frothing about what an irresponsible parent I am, my mother and stepfather were both present and sober. The baby was already asleep for most of these shenanigans and they were available to step in should she require care.
One Tequila
The baby was awake, but it was close to bed time. We'd been having a rough day. My best friend offered me this bit of wisdom, "The more tired, sick, and cranky you are, the more they want to cling to you." How was that shit not translated on the Dead Sea Scrolls? If a woman had scribbled them, you can bet it would be in Proverbs somewhere. I've been nursing bronchitis for awhile now, and had hit the wall. The gremlin took this as a greenlight to want Mommy to hold her, all day long.
We escaped to Grammies for Mommy (that would be me, if you're keeping track) to get some breathing room. Grammies (that would be my mother) graciously fed the baby. Kevin had poured me a Tequila Sunrise and I'd finished it before the gremlin had knocked down her peas. Since the baby loves cloth, burping cloths, wash rags, etc. she's been a bit of a self-wiper. Thoroughly by accident, during meal time she will always wipe her own face. Now, if we could just get her to do that with her bum, we'd be in business.
So my mom is feeding her, I'm nice and toasty, and everything is now hilarious. I told my mother, quite proudly, that the baby was a 'self-wiper'. My mom, totally sober, started laughing hysterically with me, and we then came up with the 'European Self-Wiping baby' schtick, which was even more funny. Euro-pee'n, get it? I realize it's not the most clever type of humor but I was feelin' good. The baby took several swipes with the cloth at her face, trying to eat it of course, but as she was tired, her aim was off. Which then mutated into the baby being 'Out of Order'. And because I'm me, I had to bang the table fiercely, uttering, "You're out of order! OUT OF ORDER!" Mom (totally sober) and I were laughing so hard, the baby was giving us the eyebrows. She didnt know if we were having heart attacks or laughing. She must have decided we were laughing, though, because she finally relaxed and gave a few tired giggles herself.
When feeding time was over, mom went to burp her. The bumbo stayed stuck to her butt as mom was trying to burp her, which set off another round of giggle fits. I know, even as I type this, that it was a 'you had to be there' kind of humor. But sharing is caring and all of that, right?
Two Tequilas
The baby was down to sleep for the night. I did not shirk my responsibilities here. After mom bathed her I took her home and got her snuggled into her sleeper sack, hair brushed, ears cleaned, story read and she finished off her own bottle (alcohol free). Then I came back to the house for more.
Everything was funny. I was funny, they were funny. It was all good. We even made attempts at serious, philosophical conversations but those all went out the window when my mom continually asked me to repeat myself as I was starting to slur my words a bit. The neighborhood kids were being loud and obnoxious as usual. I'm not sure why they don't have a bed time, or what they're doing outside that late at night instead of, you know, in bed, but they were out and shouting and screaming. Logically, I screamed back. "YOU DAMN KIDS ARE HARSHING MY BUZZ!" Did my mom stop me? No. She laughed, and encouraged me to yell more. God, I love my mom. She's the freaking best.
Confessions were made about lots of things and people. I'm a fairly honest person, but you know, in the interest of keeping civil relations there are a lot of things I just dont say out loud. My grandest confession being that I hadn't had a drink since after the baby was born. While it made complete sense to me, my mother gently pointed out that it 'just sounded really wrong'. What I meant was, this was the first time I'd really gotten my drink on since I was allowed too. I like to have fun as much as the next girl, and one of the best decisions I made since the ink was dry on my divorce papers was to have a little fun. One night I had a bit too much fun and woke up with piercings...uh... below the neckline. Then I slowed down a bit.
Poor Kevin, I think I embarrassed him a few times. Especially when the confession about the, "I don't like you, but I want a free meal so I will grace you with my company this evening" came out. He was mystified, and even more so when Mom started nodding her head along with me. To the best of my recollection, she said, "Yup and if you really don't like them, you order the lobster." Ladies, you know what I'm talking about. We learn early that free food is free food. Fellas, sorry if that hurts your feelings.
At one point Mom brought out a Horse Shoe brain teaser game, for her own amusement. I really didnt think I was that sloppy, but my mother did remind me this morning that it was at this time that I went in the house to use the elegant facilities that I became convinced that Kevin had moved the entire bathroom from it's original place in the house. While these might seem to be the ravings of a mad drunk woman (and kind of were) if you knew Kevin you would understand that it is completely plausible for him to have gotten a wild hair up his ass and outfitted a new bathroom in a different space.
Three Tequilas
In my defense, there was a time before the gremlin came along that I could hold my liquor better. I wasn't putting anyone under the table, but 3 was a good solid buzz for me. Nowadays, apparently thats when the room starts to move. I tried to stand up to illustrate a point to my parents, who were spellbound with glee, laughing at me, not with me and realized that things were moving. Stationary things, which shouldn't be moving, such as outside lights and stuff. Uh oh, but did that stop me? Hell no! "Bartender pour me another!"
This phase was when I got even more silly. I demanded ridiculous things, like a lampshade be put on my head. Even better, I came up with a bing-o Halloween costume idea to completely freak Chris out. I've decided to dress up like Peg Bundy. Genius, I know! It was worth the 3 Tequilas to get that one churned up from the recesses of my useless brain.
Floor
This is the part where things get a bit iffy. I'm going with my faulty memory and the instincts that tell me where I went awry. I didnt finish my fourth, only half of it but I had to make sure my mom knew how much I loved her, and how much I appreciated her. Kevin also got the same treatment, which further embarrassed him. "I love you so much! You're the best!" Drunken hugs all around. And then Chris came home.
Imagine, if you will, a long hard day at work. The only saving grace being that the Peruvian Dictator is on vacation. But it's the last day of the week in a job that he's not particularly fond of, dealing with people that often frustrated him and make him have to use words at them. By Friday night, just making basic sentences is beyond him. So here he comes and Mom says, "I'm going to go get your husband." I'm on the porch yelling, "HUSBAND! COME AND GET ME! I LO-OOOOVE YOU!"
Before he even steps into the doorway of the porch, his head hangs low and he takes a deep breath, trying to bolster himself against the fumes and my running mouth. Mom kindly offered him a beer and he knocked back the rest of my Tequila Sunrise. We sat on the porch for a bit. I'm not sure how long because time was a bit distorted but I do know he was doing his best to contribute to the conversation (unusual) while I was doing my best to talk over him (normal).
He walked me through the yard and into the back door, and that's when things got really embarrassing. I wont say much, just that he was sweetly trying to take care of me. Tylenol, cold compresses, and when things started coming up the wrong direction he sat on the bathroom tile with me and hugged me when I started crying. The man's a champ, I tell ya. Sorry ladies, he's off the market. Only I get to drunk cry on his big manly shoulder.
*I honestly have no idea what I'm talking about.
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