Who Snuck the Hooch to the Baby?

Dear Baby,

Last night after our midnight bladder emptying, I settled onto the couch so Kiefer could actually sleep while I spent the next 2 hours trying to find a remotely comfortable sleeping position. (Which I now know is impossible.)

About 20 minutes later when I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was as comfortable as I was ever going to get, you started hiccuping.

W…T…F….

And you kept hiccuping for-ev-er. So I can only assume you’ve been drinking.

You’re in sooooo much trouble. I thought I had more time before we needed to have the Don’t-Drink-Until-You’re-21 talk.

They grow up so fast….

I can handle a lot:

• The midnight pee breaks.
• You pressing on my lungs so I can barely breathe.
• You refusing to move when Boo touches my tummy, so Radley can endlessly taunt him with: “I’ve felt the baby move and you haven’t.”
• You making it impossible to find a comfortable sleep position.

What I cannot handle is you throwing in my face that while you apparently had an all-night kegger, I’ve been deprived of key lime pie martinis and blueberry margaritas for months. MONTHS!

If I can’t drink, you can’t drink, and I don’t appreciate you throwing your drunken hiccups in my face…er, tummy.

You’re grounded until further notice.

Love,

Your Mama

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “If you did not eat the entire candy bar within 24 hours of receiving it, then we can no longer be friends.”—PinotNinja

Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off

Like the song says, “Tequila makes your clothes fall off.” What the song leaves out is that your clothes fall off from the force of convulsing while you vomit.

Me: Ugh…I heaved so hard my bra came unhooked.

Kiefer: You call that heaving? You’re the daintest puker ever.

Me: Awww…you called my puking “dainty.” That’s why I love you.

I hate throwing up. And even more than throwing up, I hate people hearing me throw up. So when Kiefer described my vomiting as “dainty” and “like a kitten hacking up a tiny hairball,” it was like he gave me the Olympic Gold Medal.

That’s right. If puking quietly was a sport, I would win the gold.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve thrown up from drinking:

1. Jungle juice is stronger than it tastes. Welcome to college.
2. A milkshake is not an adequate dinner on New Year’s Eve.
3. Half of a salad is not an adequate dinner before having a few drinks.
4. Do not try to “drink the rainbow.” Drinking the rainbow = a shot of every color (ROYGBIV).

And now I can add Lesson #5: If you’re going to drink 2.643839261 raspberry margaritas, you need to eat more than chips and salsa.