Weekend wrap

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. All in all, I had a most excellent weekend. Numerically it was: 1 romantic dinner, 5 hours on a boat, 5 hours on a deck, 3 hours of dancing, 5 hours of hang over, 2 instances of puking, 3 losses in pickleball, and capped with 1 dinner at the in-laws, with some scattered sleep mixed in.

The high was a few hours burning up the Indianola dance floor with my wife, the low, below the midnight dance shot with the Indianola stage gnome, is the accompanying story.



Upon waking up on Sunday morning, I new I had one shot to either cure my hang over, or cement it. I walked to the fridge at the beach house, grabbed some of Uncle Char's breakfast casserole, a water, and a diet coke. I got the liquids down as the casserole heated up. I put the casserole down, and sat on the bed to give it a minute... and then I did the ol' slow jog to the bathroom for part 1 of 2.

Part deux came on the ride home, where the non-hungover wife asked if we needed to stop before we got on the highway. I chose to stop, and stepped outside. Bright sunshine blinding me, cars passing by... me dressed like a hobo. I paced in the sand, cut off sweats a saggin, flip flops a draggin, when it came. For the second time before 9am I was yelling at the ground. As I hurled uncontrollably, a fart slipped, it, also uncontrollable, and then another, after the second one, the wife chimed in from the car "careful, dont shit yourself!" Talk about feeling 2 feet tall.

A few hours in bed, a granola bar, and some crystal light had me back on track by 1 in time for some Sunday afternoon pickleball.