The weekend was nice. We went to a super fun dinner party at Mala's house on Saturday night. They recently met a nice couple whose kids are the same ages as Mala's kids, and they thought we'd like them too. They were right - we all hit it off immediately and had a great time together. We're all very down to earth, which is good because the second we met I blurted out, "Do you have a bag of poo? 'Cuz I do!"
Let me explain. We had arrived about 45 minutes before they did and we had already dipped into the first of many bottles of wine. Mala was setting out plate after plate of amazing appetizers and we were happily snacking and chatting when my 2 y.o. wandered his stinky self in and sat next to me, asking for cheese. As fate would have it and because I am an amazing mother (ahem), I had brought a few diapers with me but hadn't bothered with wipes. I mean, the kid had already crapped twice that day, so I figured we were cool on the numero dos, right? WRONG.So J and I grabbed him and some wet paper towels and took him to the bathroom to take care of bidness just as Mala was greeting E & M at the door. We were quick and thorough, but when all was said & done I was left holding a plastic shopping bag containing the world's stinkiest diaper. Obviously I didn't want to just put it in the bathroom or worse, in the kitchen trash, so I slunk into the kitchen amidst all the hubbub of introductions, coat-taking, etc, and tried to get Mala's attention to ask where to stash my bag of crap. E & M had brought their dog, and E was holding a similar looking bag and looking as bashful about it as I was, and since I'm kind of the gregarious type (What? You haven't noticed?) I stuck out my hand and used that little ice-breaker above.
I'm not sure he knew quite what to do with me, especially when it turned out that his bag contained not dog poo but dog food, but he had the good manners to laugh and I'm pretty sure I won him over by the end of the night. Hopefully he didn't mind the rather inauspicious start to our friendship.
Oh, and he ended up getting reeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaally partied-out by the end of the night; as in, he slipped into a semi-catatonic state and didn't speak or move for at least an hour until my husband had to help him to his car so his wife could drive him home.... So I think we're even. :)
We played some Guitar Hero, but I was playing terribly. I was tipsy, sure, but even drunk I usually do better than 64%, which was my average during this session. It wasn't until Mala picked up the guitar later that she realized that I had been playing in left-handed mode the whole time, which explains why everything on the screen was backwards. OOOOPS. Oh well, at least I'm not losing my GH skillz - I was worried! It's bad enough that I can't belt out the tunes, don't take my awesome ax-wielding talents too!On Sunday I spent most of the morning shuffling from couch to fridge and sipping water. Yes, I had the mother of all Box O' Wine-induced hangovers. J had gotten up and out early to go skiing and my oldest son slept really late since he'd been up running with the pack of kids the night before, so it was just me and M watching Curious George for most of the morning.
The one good thing about a bad hangover is that I won't feel like imbibing again for a loooooong while. This is especially good news for my ass, which seems to have expanded recently when I wasn't paying attention. Sigh. It's time to buckle down because we're going on vacation in Florida at the end of April and I don't want to be mistaken for Shamu when we hit Seaworld. So no booze this month... except for when we go see Get The Led Out in Boston in two weeks. Other than that, I'm determined to shrink my assets before stuffing them into a tankini and hitting the chaise lounge!
I'm also considering trying a spray tan before we go, which sounds like excellent blog-fodder... especially if I end up looking like an Oompa Loompa, as I suspect that I will. Stay tuned!
Wish me luck! Have a great day. *MUAH*