Last Saturday was my birthday, and Shane threw me a fabulous party with all of our new friends at a bar down the street. Thirty people showed up, and I ended the night drinking directly out of a bottle of wine purchased by a gentleman raised in the great state of Missouri AND walked home shoeless. Wins all around.
It also got me thinking about all of the various birthday party stages we all go through:
Operation WAHM (Work at Home Mom), Field log, 1/6/2014
00:00 – 01:30: Continue ongoing anti-terrorism measures first launched at 23:00 on the prior day in response to a solo operator who would NOT STAY IN HER GODDAMN ROOM.
It seems the opponent’s “orange peel elephant” disguise must have been irreparably damaged during prior strikes as it was noticeably absent.
We’ve just gotten back to the flat from a flight that was transcontinental, transatlantic, and replete with a stop in a dazzling foreign locale (kisses to you, Minneapolis!). It was simultaneously uneventful and psychologically scarring, as is most travel with little kids. It always starts like this: