Yesterday’s trip to CT was mellow and mostly uneventful. I hung out with a slightly jet-lagged sister, and took part in a 3-way day-long session of tittering over a baby. My mother, sister and I made fun of ourselves all day for the way we were hovering over the 4 month old Prince.
He is really an amazing baby, and for some reason, he just adores me. I was harboring a secret suspicion that of all the tittering aunts (well, one was a grandmother, but we were calling ourselves the aunts), I was by far his fave. But when his mom joined the fray after her day of work, she confirmed my suspicion, and it was no longer secret or a suspicion. The Prince loves this aunt!! His mom said, “Zuska, he seems to have a real special bond with you, I wonder why that is??” He he he. Favorite aunt! Favorite aunt! I win!! [Hi, sis! Yes, as you know, I do know that I’m obnoxious.]
My sis is MY favorite aunt, though, because she did my laundry. She folded my husband’s underwear. Well, sort of. she more “lay them in neat piles” because, well, they’re my husband’s underwear.
We had dinner – later than expected – and I had to be the family teetotaler, since I had to drive home.
When Beloved and I went to Amsterdam this summer, we brought home gin. A bottle for us, and a bottle for my father – who loves gin. He said that he has loved the gin. Upon thinking about the gin, he jumped up and RAN to his liquor cabinet, took the gin (in its cool clay engraved bottle) and went to the basement to HIDE the gin. He came back up and as my brother and his wife were walking in the door, he whispered, “do not mention the Amsterdam gin!!!”
Why? Because my brother would have knocked it back like so much water. It’s not like we jet over to Amsterdam on a weekly basis to procure more gin!
I got home at 10:30, said ni-nite to my girly-q’s, and talked with Beloved for 2 hours before drifting off. I had “hoped”* to wake at 7:30 and get my last pre-job gym session in. Instead I woke at 9:15, and told Beloved that I would take both girls on my party errands so HE could go to the gym.
We went to the grocery store, and to the indy book store to buy a journal (E’s contribution to the Yankee Swap), and of course to Starbucks. now we’re cleaning – but there isn’t so much to do. We have 5 hours until the kids come. J is leaving at the moment that one of the girls gets picked up.
Hopefully, all will go well tonight and tomorrow a.m. I’m crossin’ my fingers. Maybe before the last of the girls go home, my parents and sister will arrive. We’re going to have cake for E and my dad, and we’re going to my favorite restaurant to consume beer and delicious food.
I realized while lying in bed last night that my beer intake must be severely monitored and limited tomorrow. It is the first time since February that I’m saying this – but I have to go to work the next day, and don’t want to be nursing a hangover.
And I have like zero time to try on my outfit for the first day, and make sure I’m happy with it. I’ve over packed this final weekend, to say the least.
* “hoped” here means “these are the words I’m using, but in reality, all I want to do is sleep, and for the forces of the universe – and my ability to sleep through alarm clocks – conspire to keep me in the bed until it is too late to go to the gym.”
OK Go – Here It Goes Again
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