It’s strange that I feel like I’m on vacation, especially considering
the fact that three of the four citizens of this household are having an extra
long weekend. Although I am the unfortunate number four, I’ve got that vacation
feeling. This is undoubtedly due to the fact that it’s been a weekend of
glorious beach weather, nothing but fun obligations, and the escape of an
extremely fat book. It’s also pretty great to only be responsible for my own
wee self on Friday and Monday mornings. No rousing of grumps, no packing of
lunch, no carpool, no rush, no worries.
I got to spend time at the beach with the lovely Beth this
weekend and her bevy of beautiful girls. I brought along a husband, a son and
one extra boy, but the menfolk mostly kept to the periphery of our little
island o-grrrlz. At one point our two oldest girls ran up from a play posse to
fill us in on the story we were to tell if that weird kid in the wetsuit
happened to ask: they were twins, but not identical, and all the kids belonged
to Beth, including the boys who were down at Secret Beach.
Bill and I were just good friends of Beth’s. We high fived at our good fortune
and headed off for drinks while Beth bravely single-parented her five kids.
After the beach I dropped boys in various places and then
met more friends at a crazy place that served enormous spigoted beakers of cold
Japanese beer, then went with Desiree to check out the karaoke place next door.
It reminded me of the scene from Lost in Translation when Bill Murray sang
Peace, Love, and Understanding, but it wasn’t in a windowed high rise. It was
in a strip mall. But still. They had those little rooms where small or big
parties could sit around a big booth and enjoy their own karaoke party. We did
not partake on this night, but oh did we ever make plans. We also enjoyed
cocktails called “mind erasers” that I can hardly wait to reconstruct: absolute
vanilia and café patron served in a short glass with ice and strict
instructions not to stir. Yum. After a couple of rounds I had no choice but to
point out to my lovely friend that I was sitting at the bar in my bathing suit
and yoga pants with my hair in a crazy beach knot at 10 pm on a Saturday night.
We left begrudgingly. We’ll be back.
The best news of all is that I’ve finally mostly recovered
from the plague that has summarily kicked my ass for the last month. Yes, I’m
still coughing and yes, I still get winded during rigorous exercise, but I’m
back healed
so much better.
Happy Presidents’ Day, peeps. I’m happy for you if you have
the day off today, I only hate you a little bit.
Thank the 8-lb baby jesus that it was all only a *story* for the weird girl in the wet suit. I don't think I would be well suited to 5 children in real life.
ReplyDeleteBoth the Japanese place with spigoted beakers and the karaoke place next door with its mind erasers sound incredibly dangerous... (You'll invite me, right?)
xoxo,
Beth
Oof, that's me. Day off. Boozy Luncheon.......
ReplyDeleteMy mind is not erased, though. Not yet, anyway.
And although we do *not* have a Secret Beach here on the Least Coast, we *do* have powerful restaurants in which we can partake of said boozy luncheons.
Yay! Boozy Luncheons!
xxEllie