Is it okay to stay up late and drink too much if it’s with other pre-school parents? That’s my excuse. Vivien’s school had their annual fundraiser, and I lucked out.  I liked my dress, and I liked the people at my table.

The theme was “Mad Me,” and I bought this dress for $22 at a secondhand store. I grabbed five and tried them on fast, and Rex was with me in his stroller. The dressing room was tiny so I kept having to open the door just enough to say, “I’m here Rex.” He was pretty mellow, but you never know when they can explode.

I put up my hair, pinned with 5,600 hair pins, and MP slicked his hair back. Let’s drink. The food at the event was not good.

“What is that?” Mark kept asking pointing to various side mounds on the plate. As the event rolled down one dad said, “Are you going to the Tar Pit? We would go.” Great idea.

Next thing I knew there were 14 of us there. The pickled deviled egg hit the spot. At one point, the art teacher was there thanking me. That’s when I realized he thought I was picking up the drinks.

Fortunately enough people knew otherwise so it was all good. I haven’t closed down a place in, um, let me think… that was so many anecdotes ago I don’t remember.

When I got home, Rex had woken up. I tried to soothe him, but finally was like, “Dude, get in the pack and play and cry it out because I may pass out.” He showed me though. He still woke up at bright and early like normal.

As I staggered pushing the stroller this morning, my legs feeling like clay, my mouth like a desert as Vivien asked me little kid questions like, “Why is the sky blue?”, I thought:

Mother hood and hangovers are a bad combination.