On dates, and drinking...

Wow.  It's so loud in my house right now, I've resorted to my iPod at a volume that is sure to make me need a hearing aid that much sooner....school starts next Weds, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling relieved....

Mr W and I made it to the wedding on Sunday night.  First of all, let me tell you, I had fun, although it was a fish-out-of-water experience, for the most part.  And that Mr W neglected to tell me initially that the wedding would be a non-alcoholic affair.  When he finally did tell me about this on Sat night, the conversation went like this...

"I hope you know that you will be the driver tomorrow."

"But there's not gonna be any liquor there."

"That's not funny."  "Seriously."

"Dude, I'm not going."  "Stop it."  "Look.  I can count on the fingers of one hand how many times you and I get to actually go out alone, with the opportunity to have a drink.  I don't have enough fingers to tell you how many times during the course of the week that I really need a drink, due to the antics of your children.  You've got to be kidding."  "There's always the parking lot.  You could stash some in the trunk..."  "Shut up."

He wasn't kidding.  And I had to laugh, as we stood in line for at the buffet, as I heard a couple of other people joking about it too.  "See, I'm not the only one,"  I pointed out to him, and stifled a giggle when I heard another parking lot suggestion from the people in front of me.  We did have champagne to toast with, but the servers denied our requests that they leave the bottle at the table.  Spoilsports.

Aside from that, it was very nice.  I admitted to Mr W that the fact that everyone cleaned up so well (what is it about men and tuxes?  :) Oy!) made up for the lack of libations.  It was funny to me to notice that it was obvious which group of people were the groom's friends.  "You all look alike,"  I said to Mr W.  He looked offended.  "Silly, look around--so many men, all with the same short haircut."  So cute, I added, to myself. :p

My only faux pas, I think, besides being a bit underdressed (I'm never relying on Mr W again for information about these events), was when one of the guys at my table asked Mr W "So, how long have you been married?" and I quipped "about 100 years."  I thought that was worth a giggle, but um, no one laughed.  Fabulous.  "Well, maybe it feels like that," his colleague said.  While I responded correctly in the next breath (14 yrs) I still felt like a bit of an idiot.  So I didn't say much after that...and we left early, because we had to go pick up the kids across town (as I predicted).

An example of our (oh, okay, I'll claim ownership, seeing as I bear the scars and all) children driving me to drink just happened five minutes ago.

I hear a loud crash, over my music.  Not good.  I put my forehead in my hands, automatically massaging my temples, as Ryan walks up to tell me:  "We were playing, and it was an accident, we can fix it, but we knocked down something with the light sabers." 

Oh, let me guess.  Let's see, no fewer than five children in the narrow hallway, brandishing 3 foot long light sabers, perhaps a couple of picture frames on the ground is what I'll see when I turn around.

Bingo. 

I go and scoop them up, assessing the unfixable damage, making sure no glass is left on the tile...smiling to myself that for once, I made a good choice.  I bought the cheap frames, foreseeing this very incident.

If only I could pick lottery numbers with that kind of accuracy.