Coming home from Florida was tough. It was hard to wake up and go to work when I was used to waking up and having a Bloody Mary by the pool. It’s no way to live.
The only good thing is that pretty much everyone who was in Florida with us is as depressed as we are. So everyone is trying to keep this party going. In their garages.
On Friday night around 9:30 I got a text from Shelly. We’re drinking in the garage come on down. Um, okay. You don’t have to ask me twice.
So I stopped at the liquor store and grabbed a bottle of their finest twist off wine and headed down. It wasn’t Florida, but it was the next best thing. Garage drinking.
Garage drinking is awesome because it’s outdoors. Sort of. And that’s about as outdoorsy as I get.
Then on Saturday I was being an awesome mom. I took the kids to see a movie. I had a neighbor kid with me. My plan was to eat a tub of popcorn the size of my ass to absorb all of the booze from the night before and then go home and continue binge watching Thirteen Reasons Why.
Best laid plans.
When I went to drop off the neighbor kid, her parents Brian and Flo were in the garage drinking. With some other friends. I didn’t want to be rude.
So I joined them. Just for one. Wink.
When we’re garage drinking, the kids are always in attendance. We normally lock them in the basement and put a movie on. But it’s only a matter of time before they creep out to the garage. Like ants. One after the other. Single file.
In order to keep the littles occupied, Brian takes them for rides on his tractor. Because this is Chicago. Where the average lot size is 25′ x 125′. So really all a tractor is good for is giving drunken rides to tired kids to prolong our garage drinking.
The kids tend to be real buzzkills as the night wears on. I must say “we’ll leave just as soon as I’m finished with this glass of wine” about a hundred times. The older kids are on to my reindeer games. So that’s when I start promising money to keep them quiet. Money they are still asking me for. Money they will never actually see.
Around the same time of the evening the kids start with the excuses. My stomach hurts. My head hurts. I’m soooooo tired.
What kind of a kid doesn’t realize how lucky they are to party with their friends til the brink of dawn? While the rest of the neighborhood is asleep. I’m going to remind them of this when they’re in high school.
Well the next thing you know it’s midnight and my six-year-old is puking all over me. Hot chunky wet puke sliding down my shirt. Apparently he wasn’t joking about his stomach hurting.
Then and only then did I decide it was time to go home. I bathed the sick child and threw my pukey clothes in the wash. And then I had a night cap. The next day I had to rewash the clothes because I forgot that I had washed them and never put them in the dryer.
But it was all worth it. And I hope to do it all over again this weekend. Garage drinking is always a guaranteed good time.