I don’t get out much. I say this with complete honesty mixed with slight embarrassment and a large dose of self pity. So when my friend, Katie, called one morning to inform me she had a babysitter to watch our collective gaggle of 7 kids ages 9 and under on Saturday night I was ecstatic.
When people at work asked what I was doing that weekend, I could answer with more than a shrug and some sad sentence that started with swimming lessons and ended with a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese. Woot! Woot! I got me some plans!
So on Saturday evening, we left our three boys happily hanging with their favorite pseudo-siblings and the brave babysitter and we piled into the minivan to set out on our adventure. I was like a puppy let out after an extra long day locked in the crate.
I drank one three too many margaritas, danced to an awesome band covering Lady Gaga, Doobie Brothers, Beyonce and Bon Jovi back to back (and when I say awesome I mean it was their first gig ever and I wanted to adopt the lead singer to be a surrogate grandmother for our kids) and ate both sushi and cupcakes! Not at the same time because that sounds gross. But still. I’m pretty sure that’s what I’d request for my last meal–a margarita, sushi and a cupcake. Just a little cultural combo I like to call Middle American-Tex-Mex-Trendy Fusion. Sheer perfection and it wasn’t even my birthday. It was Katie’s husband, Kevin’s birthday.
Let me stop right here to say I know this might be confusing some of you; I’m not talking about myself and my husband in some weird, mixed third person, out of body way to blow your mind. We have friends and his name and her name are our names, too. Whenever we go out, the people always shout..
So, it was Kevin’s birthday and he was on fire! Literally. While the four of us crowded around to snap a picture with someone’s phone, he leaned over his delicious chocolate cupcake, which had one small candle on top and kablooey, up in flames went his shirt. He had to pat himself down to put out the flames while the rest of us rolled on the floor gasping for air in delight.
So, this Saturday, we are taking our pent up, stressed out, parents gone wild act on the road again for a reunion tour. This time it is my Kevin’s birthday. I’m pretty nervous. I’m afraid we aren’t going to be able to top the original. But, you know what? My margarita is always half full so I’m going to give it the ol’ college try.
