Last evening I went out to dinner with my agency colleagues. All very nice people, but to put it delicately, they like to partake in adult beverages. To put it bluntly, they’re humungous drunks. I knew I was in trouble when they suggested “Going to a German bar so we can order those steins, that are like, huge…”
So, I may have had a thimble full past my limit.
I woke up this morning to the sound of chunks of my brain rubbing together in my head. Slowly.
As I made my secret oath never, ever to visit a German bar again Diana bopped in carrying Elijah. “I have to take Grover to the groomer. So…here.” And hoisted a very awake Elijah onto my belly.
I carried him downstairs and learned a great lesson of fatherhood: Babies do not care if you are hung over. I suggested several games:
“Watch Daddy Rub His Temples.”
“Sit Quietly And Watch SportsCenter.”
“Lay On The Cold Cold Floor.”
None of which Elijah was into. I had to step it up and act like a fully functioning dad. Luckily once I was up and running my hangover stopped trying to assassinate me.
However, I’m going to suggest the library for our next agency outing.
1 comment:
Yes, but, did anyone nearly get away with the homecoming king's crown?
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