recently the family spent a week in mexico throwing back margaritas and chowing down on mexican food. then we just spent the labor day weekend in san antonio, taking my inlaws out to dinner for their golden (otherwise know as, i can’t believe i haven’t effing killed you after 50 years) anniversary. we ate our way up and down the riverwalk.
anyway, if i don’t do something soon, ice t’s gonna be asking me to marry him.
food i can do with or without, but margaritas…now that’s a sacrifice. here’s a typical weekend conversation between me and hubs:
me: (looking at my watch) is it too early for a cocktail?
him: (not even glancing at his watch) at the (insert our last name here) house? you must be joking.
so i asked the hubs to cut back with me for the next few weeks until i reign it in, cos it’s no fun NOT to drink alone. he was none too excited.
luckily, fate as intervened. the hubs is having a colonoscopy this week (no, he’s not 50 -he’s just very in touch with his asshole) and he’s not allowed to have any alcohol until after the procedure.
he also can’t eat anything either… and he has take some little pills that are some kind of nuclear laxative… and i will have to take care of him after he comes out of anesthesia…
come to think about it, i may be needing a drink after all.
i’ll keep you posted on both fronts (so to speak).