Woooo!

Nothing like a weekend of binge drinking and eating everything in sight to get one out of a deep depression! Alissa and I killed off three bottles of wine and half a bottle of Sake (thanks, mom!) Saturday night. Alissa was three sheets to the wind but I managed to stay on this side of drunken hell and not on the oh-I-want-to-die side. No puking. No headache. No nasty taste in the mouth that won't disappear no matter how many times you brush.

The best part was getting into an extremely hot hot tub with a light, drizzling rain falling. It was cool laying there under a cold, nasty sky and feeling like a million bucks. The coolest part was walking back to the house. Alissa was in front of me, silhouetted by the house light, steam was coming off her head and disappearing into the darkness above. She lives out in the country so the smell of sweet, wet earth lulled us to sleep that night, (not that it was hard).

The next morning we raided the chicken coop* and prepared some fresh eggs and bacon for breakfast. That's when we took stock of how much we'd eaten the night before. Good Lord, a whole thing of ham/cream cheese/onion dip, a pot of chicken fajitas, a box of pastries, and anything else that wasn't nailed down.

All too soon it was over. AJ came home and pretty much took over the household. They are in the middle of potty-training and I gotta say, there are some things that should stay within the family. Somewhere between the discussion of a nap and big-boy pants I made my exit.

* Chickens are cool. I've never been around them live like this. Alissa collected a hand full of worms and threw them into the coop. Wrestlemania 241, my friends! They have old chickens and young chickens that they have to keep separate or the older girls will kick the youngin's butts. There are two roosters, one to each group. They will mix them soon. I asked Kenny, the owner of the farm, what will happen if the two roosters don't get along. "Loser goes in the pot," he replied. Yikes.