firing on all syllables

During the past year, I’ve had only three nights out without my husband and/or baby. Only three nights, people!

To help rectify this woeful statistic, my friend KD agreed to hit the town with me last night. I was so over-excited that I dressed in unnecessary high heels, my favourite top, and earrings that dangle. To a pub. On a Tuesday night. 

I was very conspicuously The Girl Who Doesn’t Get Out Much.   

My over-excitement was also evident in the amount I drank. Towards the end of the night, I made the idiotic suggestion “Let’s get another bottle!” (which in hindsight was probably more like “Lessss geet anober boddle!”).

But thankfully, KD showed restraint on my behalf and my plan was met with common sense and a polite refusal. 

Soon after, we said our tipsy farewells and I poured myself into a taxi. Once home, I woke up my delighted husband by bursting through the front door and launching into a wobbly yet spirited High-heels Removal Dance on our wooden floorboards. 

So, in short, I am hungover today.

Some people seem to function fine with a hangover. They suck it up and get on with their day, with barely a complaint. I am not such a person. Not by a long shot.   

I moan and lie down and that’s about it. In fact, the most active thing I did today was to swear heaps. At one stage I attempted to eat something, but had to abandon this as it was severely cutting into my swearing and moaning time.

All morning I was meekly cussing up a storm while my husband pottered around the house. But then he decided to undertake a big renovation project and my swearing bug was swiftly passed along. 

My husband decided to replace our bathroom basin. All by himself. Without a plumber. And with a uselessly hungover wife.

Now, my husband is a very nifty handyman, really very impressive and skilled. There’s little he cannot build or fix. 

However, the old plumbing system was poorly and strangely set up. So as each problem was discovered throughout the day, my hubby was forced back to the basin salespeople and hardware shop. He made four separate emergency journeys in total. FOUR! And each time he begrudgingly had to fetch his car keys, it was met with an impressive spray of expletives.

Boy, did he show me a thing or two about effing-and-jeffing. My timid hangover swearing paled by comparison.            

During all this drilling and noise and action, I tried to invent games that I could play with my baby whilst lying completely still on the floor.

So whilst the occasional expletive was faintly heard from the bathroom, my son and I enjoyed the uproariously fun games ’Pull Hungover Mummy’s Hair’, ‘Human Speed Hump’ and ‘Guess If Mummy is Sleeping’. 

The good news is that I had completely stopped swearing as my husband was doing enough for the both of us.

In the end, my husband did a brilliant job and our new basin looks wonderful! Thank fuck.  

Tags: bar, beer, drunken misadventures, humor, humour, hungover games for parents, not getting out much, over-excited at the pub, parenting, renovations