As many of you will know, I do tend to have a little drinkie
Of course, there are occasions when I decide to drink a little bit more, but these are few and far between*, and never, never in front of my kids. Trust me - I am unstable enough without alcohol; I don't like to impose my intoxicated self on my offspring.
|Sangria. Who knew?|
Now, normally I can drink sangria till it's coming out of my ears. A half a litre will barely give me a buzz; it's like pink lemonade, only vaguely ethnic. So I poured myself a huge glass and drank it down on an empty stomach, pronounced it delicious, and then poured another.
And then suddenly the room started to spin. Oh god, I thought. Salt. I needed salt.
"CHIPPIES!" I cried, and fell on my daughter's plate, cramming them into my mouth handfuls at a time.
"Oh dear," said The Architect wearily. He could see the signs.
I leaned in to him earnestly and took his face in my hands. "I don't think I can drive," I told him conspiratorially. "THEY'VE. SPIKED. MY. DRINK."
"It's called 'alcohol'," he said. "Come on kids. Finish your dinner. Mummy's drunk."
"What's the matter?" I asked him, poking him repeatedly in the ribs. "Don't you love me anymore? That makes me so sad. You have to love me! TELL ME YOU LOVE ME!"
"Yes, yes," said the poor man. "Try to calm down."
"I AM CALM!" I cried. "I'M JUST A BIT DRUNK!"
"What's wrong?" asked my son.
"DRUNKETYY DRUNKETYY DRUNK!" I told him, and giggled. My son shrugged.
"Can I have a milkshake Mum?" asked my daughter.
"After a burger and chips?" I exclaimed. "SURE!!!"
The kids beamed. It made me happy. And when I'm happy I want ice cream.
"I WANT ICE CREAM!" I cried. "WHO WANTS ICE CREAM?"
"We want ice cream!" yelled the kids.
"HOORAY!" I cheered.
We finished our meal and The Architect bundled us out of the restaurant. I left my bag inside but quickly remembered
"That was FUN!" I declared. "Now I just need a QUICK LIE DOWN and then I'll PUT THE KIDS TO BED!"
I collapsed on our bed and fell immediately asleep. It was 8.15pm. I woke up this morning at 8.30am, feeling vibrantly refreshed and craving Vegemite toast.
The Architect, however, looked exhausted. Funny. I thought it was a really relaxing night.
*truly, Al and Val - I hadn't had to ask anyone to take my pants off for me in years