the other night i did something i hadn’t done in years: i got totally f*cking bombed. and good god, i loved it.
you might be thinking, “big whoop,” but for me it was kind of a big deal. see, i’ve maybe had a few measly sips of booze in the past 3 years. puddn still yaps about the last time he had any fun with me—12 freakin’ months ago when we were sh*tfaced in nyc. so basically, we were due for a good time.
still, i really didn’t mean for it to happen. but the in-laws, mooshie and sarge, were in town watching our lil a-holes, so i knew the kids were in mediocre hands (booyah, moosh).
puddn was giddy as a schoolgirl when i actually agreed to go out, so he called the dipsh*ts and a few other idiots to go to dinner. as we cruised out the door, i told moosh, “i’ll probably just have a glass or 2 of vino, leave puddn’s drunk ass at the bar, and be home in a coupla hours.”
when we showed up at dinner, everyone cheered like it was my freakin’ coming-out party and demanded that i get drunk. holy peer pressure. so i ordered a sauvignon blanc. that lasted about 3.2 minutes. puddn ordered me another. then another. and then i morphed into the loudmouthed drunk girl at the bar. but according to puddn, i was totally on fire…this is what he wrote on his facebook page that night:
“tonight janz and i went out for the first time since having ridge. my wife is the funniest person i know…and she reminded me this evening why i love her so.”
cute, right? i know, it’s definitely not like that d*ckhead to say or write anything nice about me. in fact, a few of his dumb friends (yes, you, sheehy) assumed i’d hacked his facebook account and written it myself. well, jerks, i didn’t. maybe i was just that f*cking fun.
but let’s be honest here, that fb post was also kinda annoying. i mean, why does it take me going out and getting completely wasted for my husband to remember why he loves me? i mean, what is that? i’ll tell you what: it’s insulting.
okay fine, maybe i’m a boring stick in the mud these days—and not exactly the fun-loving party animal puds fell in love with. but come on, how am i supposed to be a binge-drinking maniac when i’ve got 2 kids now? gimme a break, nell carter.
anyway, puddn dragged my drunk ass outta the bar at 11. thank gawd cuz i would’ve stayed out all night…knocking back vino, showing pics of my kids to random strangers, and ogling young guys like the creepy, old cougar i am.
when we got home, i started pumpimg (to pump and dump, duh) but passed out on the sofa and woke up to milk overflowing everywhere. ugh, whoever said, “don’t cry over spilled milk,” was clearly an idiot.
next thing i know it was 9 am and i had a raging hangover. clearly the craziest thing that happened was that puddn took care of baby ridgey all night. but it’s a good thing cuz i can’t wait to do it again! who’s with me?