We're Boozy Friends

Yesterday started out as one of those days stay-at-home-moms the world over know as "sick days". Not me...No, that might mean that I could rest and recover. No guarantees on that but at least the possibility would exist. Little A woke up at 2 am, comes to loom over my bed (do you recall the mattress on the floor?) with the fateful "my tummy hurts" immediately followed with wretching sounds (remember how he's looming OVER me?). It's a sad testament to say that it could've, and has, been much worse as these are not the glamorous pictures motherhood was advertised to be when I was being recruited.

I decided to make the most of the situation and get caught up, dare I say, ahead of the game by tackling those neglected tasks that stack up but just never seem to get completed. I've come to realize that these feelings are merely part of many myths that have been well propagated by the likes of Martha Stewart and Kelly Ripa who prey upon the inadequacies they conjure in those of us who can't keep up. But I was sleep-deprived just enough to be lulled into a false sense of competence and wrote out a list of things to accomplish so I could cleverly and smugly check things off said list as they were completed.

As 4 pm rolled around and one task sported the happy little check mark, I sat amid the piles of other uncompleted jobs and started wondering what I could possibly feed the family for dinner. Surely I couldn't sneak oatmeal by them again without at least one comment from Bubble Boy along the lines of "Breakfast for dinner...again...how clever!".

Then I got The Call. The Call that comes only rarely for if it came more often than say, every 10 years or so, it would lose it's special status. But of all days, it came yesterday. Those of you who check out my recommended reading list or have listened to me snort and laugh about some of my favorite books may know that I have grown to loooove David Sedaris. I share this love with my friend and neighbor, KT. Lucky for me, she is a paper-reader. The stars lined up, the cards fell into place, some good deed from the past paid off a hundred-fold. A sold-out show for David Sedaris had TWO SEATS available! TWO SEATS! Not just any two seats, but right up there looking into the whites of his eyes. I don't recall being so excited to see a show EVER and he was just as funny, witty, precious and clever as I could have dreamed. My tear-streaked cheeks hurt from laughing. Plus, after stammering over myself actually SPEAKING to the man (I actually said WORDS to him and I think he spoke back), I came home with a signed copy of NAKED and I am honored to say that I am now officially David Sedaris' "Boozy Friend".