I was going to write about the cuh-razy party I went to on Saturday night to celebrate A's husband K's graduation (heh, Dr. K) and how it culminated with me, A, and a new friend, we'll call her C, locked in the guest bathroom of our friend AJ's house trying to remove a large red wine stain from the front of C's tank top by spraying her with Shout and dabbing at her with little pieces of toilet paper. For some reason we thought that if we got the stain out her boyfriend wouldn't notice how drunk she was even though he could probably hear her yelling in Spanish through the bathroom door ("Tuve un vino pequeño! Tuve una cerveza pequeña! Lo siento!" I had a little wine. I had a little beer. I'm sorry.). I don't know why people think it's not fun to be the sober one.
Or I could tell you about how we brought the Pack and Play so Charlie could go to sleep in the guest room close to his normal bed time and Ryan and I could still enjoy the party (Ryan: ping pong tournament, Me: wine and inappropriate stories with A, AJ, C, and A's mother and mother-in-law) but for my first act as Mother of the Year I forgot to bring Phent-the-elephant with us and Charlie couldn't sleep. Instead he cried and crawled all over the tiny crib looking for him. Ryan said when he got him home and put him in his own crib he grabbed Phent and drifted off immediately. Poor poor Charlie.
I'd tell you all about that but instead I have to call Student Financial Services AGAIN to argue about my missing paycheck AGAIN (third time this summer...and I get paid monthly so yep, that's every paycheck since June). But that's for another post. If you see me picking up cans on the highway you can blame Student Financial Services and the sub-minimum wage high school dropouts they seem to employ.