Where do I take the glass.

The boy regularly reports on his "hotness" level. This is where he reports how many hugs he gets in a day. The more hugs, the hotter he is. Twelve year old logic, yes, it hurts.

Anyways.., it's a Saturday night, and I am on chronic hold with the telephone company, you know.. I have nothing better to do, as the husbandman is busily stripping wallpaper, and the children are at their friends houses.

There is a knock at the door which the husbandman goes to answer. It's four giggling girls all asking for the 12 year old boy. (Much to his "maybe" happiness, he was out). Then one of the girls asks for me. She tells me that her mother is having a party, and since they were banging on our frontdoor looking for the son, her mother suggested that I come to her party.

Certainly.

I love being the afterthought party guest.

I arrived with my 1/3 bottle of wine... ( I did not drink the other 2/3rds BTW)... and drove 9 houses down the other side of the street... the darker side of the street... which I guess to me equates to the "bad side"... where I knock on my friends door.

I was so glad that I joined in the party fun. I didn't have a clue who anyone was, except for my friend... I had seen two couples once before.. but I didn't know them.. and I didn't really care. I was going to stay for an hour, as I didn't bring that much juice with me... and since I was an afterthought.. I better not have overstayed my welcome. Yes, right.

A number of jello shooters, and a margarita and a half later.. I did arrive home. I forced myself to leave... as I had to get to work for the morning.. and only having four hours sleep the night before.. I thought I best make an attempt at being responsible. Well.. responsible to a limit.. since I jumped in the car and drove around the street to the homestead.... what a risk taker! HA.

The party goes people were hilarious. Completely. Some people don't even look like they would be as hilarious as they are... and I was sad to go. I was especially sad to exit the exploding conversations... exploring what is reality, and fantasy... interestingly enough the "men" in the conversation could not grasp the difference. The story teller had to move into graphic details as to the difference.. and they were just barely coping with that. OMG. We needed another round of jello shooters to connect the synapses.

So there it is... what was to be a boring night of wallpaper stripping watching turned into a third of a glass of red wine...