Glory be! Mom's NOT hungover!

So last night we went my cousin's wedding. It was a beautiful affair. The couple was ecstatic. The venue was unique and romantic. The dinner was out of this world.

And to top it off, the bar was open.

Despite what I've written here, I'm really not a big drinker. While I'm a HUGE fan of the occasional glass of wine or pint of beer, I'm really not one to imbibe in more than one or two at a crack.

This thrills Mark, especially when we go out for $1.99 margaritas at Tumbleweeds, where he can loosen me up (from nerves to knickers) for under $5.


So last night, with an open bar between 5-10 p.m., I found myself a wee bit tipsy after 3 (count em, 3!) glasses of wine. I switched to coffee and Diet Coke around 9, which successfully killed my buzz before needing to return home and speak coherently to the babysitter/next door neighbor girl with the parents who are (no lie) born again Christians.

NOTE: I cannot screw up this babysitting arrangement. She's the best sitter I've ever had. She's old enough to be responsible, but young enough to NOT have a life at night on the weekend. All I need is for her to relay one bad report about the scandalous divorcee next door, and her parents might put the ix-nay on her watching my kids again.

Anyhow, when Crowbar crawled in my bed at 6:30 this morning, I cautiously opened my eyes, wondering if my three glasses of sauvignon blanc had done me in. While being hungover sucks, it sucks more when you can't sip Orange Crush and crash out on the couch all day. It's not fun to take care of little people when you can barely take care of yourself.

After making my way downstairs to the coffee pot, I was relieved to determine that I would in fact, be fully functional today.

Hallelujah.