I love P, I have fun with her, I just can't date her at her house anymore. P is for poison, and her house is a dangerous place for me.
I'm a fun social drinker, I like a few drinks at a party and I rarely have what is considered "too much".
P makes me drink. Seriously, she does. I'm a big girl and I can monitor my own intake but that evil woman refills my glass when I'm not looking and then peer pressures me into bizarre and highly toxic concoctions.
I have now blown chunks out the car window twice on the way home from her house. The first time it was the endless glass of margaritas. Yesterday, the Easter cheer was on and it was all good until she took my wine glass away and poured a Manhattan.
Blech, that was the nastiest drink ever and despite the fact that I probably took two sips of it, I became instantly, staggeringly funny. The girls were rolling on the floor with my brilliant wittiness, heck, I was laughing at myself ..... for all of four minutes.
I went from 0 to obliterated in minutes. My wit didn't just hit the fan, it splattered and stumbled to the door. I was undeniably in that horribly embarrassing stage of "we have to go home now before I pass out on the floor". This is a stage you really don't want to revisit post-college, it is not the least bit attractive.
Such becoming behavior for a 36 year old mother of three! Driving home with my head out the window like a puppy, only not quite as excited to have the wind blowing in my face...
Darling Husband: "Yes!! I knew you were having fun!"
Kidlette 1: "Awww man that stinks. Barf stinks. Mom are you sick?"
No, dear Mommy just ate some bad shrimp.
Kidlette 2: "Again? I think P's house makes you sick Mommy."
Yes, P is evil, she is trying to poison me.
Kidlette 3: "You need some medicine Mommy."
Darling Husband: "I think Mommy has had enough medicine."