Actually I had a GREAT night. A super awesome "one for the books" kind of night. Until it ended. Then I had a rough night. And a rough day. And a rough evening.
I have great friends here. Even though we're all from different parts of the country and very different cultures, we have a close bond. Especially since we're all
Actually, we're married to guys in the Guard. But what that really means is when you put that ring on you're suddenly enlisted as well. Except we don't get our own paychecks. Jerks.
We all have young kids and babies. Which means we're all sleep deprived, strung out with no energy, sick of only ever watching all 185 thousand episodes of Sesame Street, and forgetting how to speak like adults without using words that aren't in the dictionary like "blankie", "baba" and "Elmo"
So every blue moon, we put the kids to bed, clean the house up (or not), put on some mascara that we've neglected for the past three months, and go out on the town for a much needed Mommy's Night Out.
We usually go to this local haunt called Ugly Mugg. It's ugly and it has lots of mugs. It's a pretty good name. We drink and order greasy bar food and have a grand ol' time. Last night was no different. The Four of us went in to Ugly Mugg and ordered a drink.
Except for my one friend Ashley (she has a great name too), who's kids most likely stuffed both of her IDs in a jar of peanut butter somewhere. She tried to order a drink anyways (we never get carded), but of course he wanted to check IDs last night, probably because we all look about 19 years old when we don't have 2+ kids each dangling off our ankles. The bartender denied her, so the rest of us annihilated our drinks and we left to go to a bar that wouldn't CARE as much about stupid things like IDs.
Which we found. And apparently we look so young that some random middle aged lady (who was clearly lambasted) bought two of the four of us a round because we were Coast Guard wives. Living in a resort town that happens to have a massive military base pays off well sometimes. And the night rolled on, and so did the rounds. We had a ridiculously good amount of time.
I made two crucial mistakes last night. I didn't eat greasy bar food like we usually do. Eating while drinking has never failed me. It always protects me from getting too drunk, getting sick and from getting hungover. I'm brilliant. But last night, I drank on an empty stomach. I'm not brilliant.
My other mistake was that I drank too much. I have a limit. My limit is 3 beers, or 2 hard drinks. I had four. Four hard drinks. Without greasy bar food. On an empty stomach. Holy disaster.
The night went great. We ladies let loose, forgot that we had kids (but didn't forget that we had husbands), got stuck in the sand on the beach (like literally couldn't get up), and had an amazing evening.
And then, I got home. I was pretty much as drunk as I've ever been in my life. I somehow managed to kick my shoes off, take off my pants (not sure why I decided that my pants HAD to be removed at that moment), get to the toilet, and puke.
Over and over and over.
And thus was the rest of my night, and halfway into the next day. I stayed in bed until 1:45pm. Except when I was in the bathroom continuing my vomit marathon. It's the only time I've ever had a real hangover in my life. In fact, it's been almost 20 hours since my last drink, but I still feel sick.
The purpose that I'm going into detail about last night is because #1 - I felt like it and #2 - to get all mushy and talk about how awesome my husband is.
We were supposed to be a decent American family today and go to church. That was NOT happening. Church started at 11am. I woke up at 10, and I was still drunk. And puking. I was embarrassed, so I texted Brad downstairs (because I wasn't risking stumbling down the stairwell) and had him come upstairs so I could piss him off and tell him that I was stupid and hungover and couldn't go to church (oh and by the way can you take care of the kids while I sleep this off all day?).
Any normal husband had every right to be a little peeved at this. But he wasn't. He was a little frustrated (though he barely showed it), but he took the role of Mr. Mom today and let me sleep all day, brought me water and crackers, and even made dinner. And I told him that I was so sorry and shouldn't have gone over my limit, etc, but he just smiled and said "been there!", and all is forgiven.
I love him. He's the hero of the day.
And I'm still munching on Pepto tablets.
And it was ALL worth it.
But don't expect me to be drinking (that much) any time soon.
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| These are my girls (and me) last night. Image is poor quality because we are drunk. And it's dark. And it's an iPhone. |
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