Brandy...not such a fine girl afterall...

On Tuesday night Adam and I had our downstairs neighbors over for dinner and then a board game after all the kids were safely tucked away in their beds. We did this last week (or was it the week before?) and it was a blast drinking and playing 'Life'.

Adam mixed up some "Sex on the beeotch" for neighbor wife and I while the hubbies drank some beers. We broke out the 'Life' game and then shots of SoCo. (a shot when you got married, a shot when you had a kid, someone made up the rule that you had to take a shot when you messed something up, which was easy for me to do since I was the banker. Let's see you not make any mistakes when you've graduated from college, gotten married, have three kids and keep track of everyone's paydays and raises!)

Anyway, when the SoCo ran out we replaced it with blackberry brandy. It never fails that when I've been drinking a lot, more shots and more drinks always seem like a really good idea. I started asking for shots when I didn't really need them and after the neighbors left Adam and I did more shots and had one of those "serious drunk talks" that ends with one or both of you crying about your past. Yeah. It was that kind of Tuesday night.

As we headed off to bed sometime after 1am I remembered that the next day was Spring Picture day at Emily's school. I was definitely going to have to get up with her to make sure her hair wasn't too funky looking. Great. I had bought her a shirt to wear for the pictures last weekend but I needed to find her jeans because I wasn't sure if these were going to be full length pictures or not. I crept into Em's room, the same room I had spent about three hours cleaning that day and subsequently dumped out her basket of clean clothes that I had yet to put away. Emily stirred a bit and in a classic "I'm really drunk but I'm going to try to have a serious conversation right now" kind of voice I told Emily that I was looking for jeans and did she know where any were. "no." she said sleepily. "I'm going to write you a note for the morning. You need to look for jeans when you get up in the morning." "kay." "I'll leave the note here, ok?" "kay." I haven't since looked at the note but I'm guessing it was pretty illegible. WTG mom!

Adam and I were in bed for probably not five minutes when it all hit me. All the shots, all the mixed drinks, all the laughing until my stomach hurt. I sat up and said, "I don't feel good."

"Go to the bathroom."
"My body feels like jell-o."
"Go to the bathroom. Please?"

BARF!

I spewed red yucky stuff everywhere next to the bed. Because he was so drunk too Adam must have thought it was a little funny because before I could spew again he was standing in front of me half laughing and saying, "Ooooo! All right!" I yakked again and he got me a trash can. When I was done he covered the red nastiness with two towels, said, "I'll clean that up in the morning." and made me go rinse with mouthwash. I laid back down and about 30 seconds later Adam said, "It's my turn." and he ran off to the bathroom and did his own thing, much more gracefully than I did.

We passed out and I woke up at 4:30am with the worst headache and cottonmouth. I staggered to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water and downed 3 ibuprofen. I managed to wake up when Emily did at 7:15 and helped her get ready. Adam got up and took her to school instead of having her catch the bus so we would have a little more time to get ready for pictures. Each of us eventually took some sort of nap in the afternoon and I re hydrated all day with ice water. I have a large mug from work that holds 32 oz. and I drank 4 of them before dinner. We were hurting for most of the day.

Throughout the day I would notice things hurting, like my knee. That's when I remembered that after the neighbors left Adam and I had found a plastic hammer and we each proceeded to hop up on the kitchen table to check each other's reflexes. Hard.

Then I noticed my head was hurting in one spot like I had hit it. That's when I remembered when we took the same hammer and knocked each other on the heads. I remembered giving Adam a small welt on his forehead.

Later Blake leaned over on my arm to get a potato chip from me and my upper arm hurt. That's right, more abuse, lol. We were poking each other in the arm hard with a finger then punching the same spot with our fists. If you've never done this, you should do it to someone you love the next time you see them. Do it twice then squeeze their arms where you've been hitting it. It makes it hurt more. Re-reading all of this I'm thinking that maybe someone should take our wet bar away. And the plastic hammer.

Next game night I am going to try to be a much lighter weight drinker!