It was another loooonnng week at work with many "working lunches." So, I was looking to have a few cocktails last night while spectating at my local semi-pro hockey arena. EXCEPT... I had my youngest daughter with me. Oops. I can have a drink, but probably only one. ONE!?!?! Nooooooooooooooooo!
Hi. My name is Don't Call Me M. And I am a grown-up. *shudder* I straight-out refuse to get drunk in front of my children--biological, step, or otherwise (otherwise? do I have kids that I don't know about? Am I even sure that I'm the mother of my kids? or did their dad pull a fast one on me?!?!). And as I've posted before, I am a lightweight. In college, I drank the football players under the table. They all passed out, and I was still standing (cue Sir Elton). But now, two drinks make me goofy. And loud.
So, I settled for one drink. Still made sure the hubby drove after the game... as we practice what we preach at my house. "No driving after drinking of any kind." boo.
Oh, and I had to watch my language at the game, too. I couldn't even yell, "Kick his ASS, Brandon!" because there were two even littler kids in front of us last night. Darn it. See... I'm still restraining myself yet this morning! Gah!
The good news is that the girl who mixed my drink last night turned me on to something new... and I don't even know what it's called! Skyy Berry, orange juice, Diet 7-Up, and grenadine. Mmmmmmm... tasty.
I guess that... if the worst thing in my life on a Friday night is that I sit and watch a hockey game sober with one of my kids... I must have a pretty freaking good life. Yep, that makes me a grown-up. I guess I can live with that.
Side note: the old guy that has to card everyone to put the "pretty" white wristband on those 21 and over looked at my driver's license, stared at the date, looked at me, and said, "Gee. You don't look THAT old." Should I feel complimented that I look younger than I am? or should be outraged that some old codger thinks I'M old?!?!? What a dilemma.