Next morning, I woke up to find my ankle swollen to the size of a football. Either someone stepped on me (possible), or I fell off of my heels (more likely), which left me with a multi-colored foot. I'll probably never drink again...
Yesterday was a whopping 70 degrees, and even with a massive hangover, I couldn't deprive my child of all that sunshine. Megan (equally hungover) and I took the kiddos to the park:
Mads and Mase were seemingly unaware of the immense pain that their Mommies were suffering, and they didn't try to take it easy on us one bit.
I went to bed at 7pm last night. I still feel like crap today. The recovery period for one night out just seems to get longer and longer. Am I getting old, or just out of practice? Like I said, I'll never drink again...
2 comments:
I wasn't playing psychologist.. I was just trying to be nice. You, on the other hand, just wanted to fight. You told me how much you loved me and missed me (I knew it) and then you tried to fight all those weird, crying bitches in the bathroom.
Madelynn gave Mason a hug.. then she bit him. Your kid totally made my kid cry.
I see a pattern developing here.
At least I didn't tell Pam that I loved and missed her. Now that would have been strange. I only wanted to fight her because she was paying more attention to you than me. I'm a jealous drunk.
I really am sorry my kid bit your kid. She's a 10 month old bully and I don't know how to fix it.
I do love you. I just love you way more after a bottle of vodka. In fact, I love many people when I'm drunk. Ask Emidio... Or don't, that's kind of embarassing.
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