We have a super-lot of things going on. But mostly we are well into the season where I eat a pomegranate every day.
I have long said to the children, as a matter of fact: The day you get to shirk your chores is the day I am passed out, dead-drunk, on the sofa.
Well! Thanks to a party we attended last weekend, they know how that happens. It isn't just a thing that happens after 2 glasses of wine at dinner! It isn't like when Sal plies me with too many cocktails with St Germain and the Flushed Mommy they've seen a half-dozen times nestles down into the sofa for a nap, no.
I mean, we know, a lot of us, there is a whole process -- a few drinks, real friendliness, laffs! Then, an intense vulnerability, seriousness & warm, moist, hands on forearms, proclamations of tenderness. After that, there is a lack of participation in the card game in which everyone else persists until slumber conquers inappropriate, relationship-building asides. A fitful sleep, sliding out of the chair over & over before finally listing to one side like Titanic.
Then, once confronted with ataxia, this girl was in the Never Surrender category of drunks! Omg, the belligerence! The delusional declarations of just-fine-ness! The anger & the weeping! Then, finally, passed-out, dead-drunk on the hostess's sofa. Seriously. So now they know what that looks like on someone & I think they are glad it is not them. I don't think any of we children in my ken got to 13 -- with our regiment of bromantic, law-enforcement dads & their pretty, pretty party-girl wives -- without developing some major sobriety-whisperer's skills, but, you know. I mean, back then in the 70s and 80s for children, there was no way but through.
For my part -- clean living for all these years -- I did not realize what was happening until it was well-developed. I have not for many, many years seen anyone get so loaded, so quickly & quietly. It seems, to anyone there last week, that you can take the girls away from the proletariat and/or The Ice Storm, but you can not take the drunk-handling skills out of the girls. At least there was no vomiting, because God is so good.
There was a dad at the party who suggested that. ("Maybe she needs to throw up!") This is the same dude who tried to swoop in & carry her over to the sofa over her protests, which were boilerplate Drunken Denial, but I had to shut him down. ("You could be triggering her & we don't even know: go over there now.") Wow. Let's not do that again!
So, that happened.
The other thing is that I am in love with the GlamGlow product BrightMud Eye Treatment. You guys, I got it at TJ Maxx so did not until this minute know the retail cost. Yk, my kids are occupied most days all of the day lately. There is time to have sex with strangers in the airport for money. Otherwise, it's just me, sneaking pea protein powder into everyone's food. Well, almost everyone. Ok, hardly anyone except Garçon.
Je demeure xoxo