Rejuvination
Whenever I get back from a weekend away from my family I feel so rejuvenated that I just want to do crazy things like be patient with my children and maybe even stop nagging my husband. Wild.
It was everything that I had hoped it would be. There was wine tasting and attempted wine tasting where Old Man Vintner kicked our cans to the calle after declaring that "I couldn't possibly give a group like this a tasting, lunching and reading. Mostly we spent our time laughing until I peed, and it felt good. Normally I would avoid soiling myself, but somehow it seemed right. I am not sure which was my favorite moment. Somewhere between listening to sweet Hattie pipe up with "What do they mean by that? A big hot wiener?" and watching the girl I would vote Most Likely to Poop Rainbows because she is so kind, furiously mining Google on her IPhone for more information on the difference between a Dirty Sanchez and a Dirty Rodriguez (note to readers: DO NOT GOOGLE THIS, omg) and offering my paltry knowledge of what a Cleveland Steamer is (See previous parenthesis, suffice it to say there is much information available regarding the possible introduction of feces into the marital bed. Ahem) Between all 9 of us I calculate that at least 13 children, 2 boyfriends, 7 husbands, 6 dogs, one 1/2 gallon of vodka, 50 trillion calories and much much wine was sacrificed for our good time.
It was still reeeeealllly nice to come home to the 3 Sweaty Muskateers waiting for the Mama Llama.
It was everything that I had hoped it would be. There was wine tasting and attempted wine tasting where Old Man Vintner kicked our cans to the calle after declaring that "I couldn't possibly give a group like this a tasting, lunching and reading. Mostly we spent our time laughing until I peed, and it felt good. Normally I would avoid soiling myself, but somehow it seemed right. I am not sure which was my favorite moment. Somewhere between listening to sweet Hattie pipe up with "What do they mean by that? A big hot wiener?" and watching the girl I would vote Most Likely to Poop Rainbows because she is so kind, furiously mining Google on her IPhone for more information on the difference between a Dirty Sanchez and a Dirty Rodriguez (note to readers: DO NOT GOOGLE THIS, omg) and offering my paltry knowledge of what a Cleveland Steamer is (See previous parenthesis, suffice it to say there is much information available regarding the possible introduction of feces into the marital bed. Ahem) Between all 9 of us I calculate that at least 13 children, 2 boyfriends, 7 husbands, 6 dogs, one 1/2 gallon of vodka, 50 trillion calories and much much wine was sacrificed for our good time.
It was still reeeeealllly nice to come home to the 3 Sweaty Muskateers waiting for the Mama Llama.
posted by Kirsten at
8:46 PM
2 Comments:
oh no you didn't
I am posting this twice because google sucks & deleted what I typed initally.
Hey there, Kirsten. Yes, I just read your entire blog in 2 days. I've decided I like it. I will probably be writing you comments a lot.
I am a 34 yo mama of 1 3yo who is much more kind with her words than I realized. We are stuck in SWFL for the time being but am originally from Detroit. I also have an ipod that is really sick of playing "Sister Christian" yet again.
You need to give Roob (are we allowed to call her that, too?) some frozen blueberries. Right out da bag. No, she shouldn't choke on them, especially the wild ones, as they are teeny. Frozen cherries, mango, peas also were popular at our house. No, you cannot make daquiris with them because then when she decides she want them you will not have enough.
Thanks for making me laugh so hard yesterday my daughter thought I was weeping.
Hey thanks for the nice comment! I wish this thing would let me send replies to folks. Anyway, welcome aboard and hope to see you hanging out here!
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