I woke up this morning convinced that Hell had frozen over, since it was 7:30am, and no children were screaming, crying, laughing or jumping on top of me -- that, or the kids were having delayed-hangovers from the alcohol they both seperately and secretly consumed on Saturday*.
Then I realized Holy Shit, it's 7:30 , we have to be in the car by 8, GO GO GO!!!!!!
Kids up and dressed, fed, Shawn even made it to the shower, and then we hit a train. Not literally, you understand...
Lots of fun conversation during our traffic stall, including the fact that it was going to cost us over $150 to have Shawn's new trucks keys made, followed by how much better off we'd be if we weren't so fucking retarded as to manage to lose 4, yes 4, sets of auto keys within 3 months. How we've managed not to lose the kids yet was the next subject on the list, but we didn't want to jinx anything, you understand...
Went straight to my training session with the Grim Reaper, and proceeded to bust my ass for the next 2 hours to make up for Saturday (party, cupcakes, beer, beer, beer).
Did I mention it is now 11:14 and I have yet to rendevous with Senor Valdez?
Now I think I just saw Shawn wielding a broom and dust buster, trying to beat Jax to the food on the floor, so I know I MUST be dreaming.
(Dad -- I don't want to post about the party without the requisite pics. Could you get your shit together and send me yours, please????)
*Don't get your panties in a wad: Jax managed to swig some beer before we saw and could grab it from him. Ryan took a sip of Jeff's Crown and coke, thinking it was just regular coke, and imediately began gagging. You see? Now it will be at least 4 more years before she dare try the hard stuff again. Pro-active parenting at it's best.