Monday Morning

First of all, no service person, contractor, or the like should ever call my house before 7:30 a.m. without apologizing for calling so bloody early. I'm all for getting things done in the morning, but at least acknowledge that you're calling at the crack of dawn with an apology to soothe my hangover when I answer. Of course, you wouldn't know that my old drinking partner and her fam showed up last night for dinner at our house. And you couldn't have guessed that she and John each came to the table with multiple bottles of great wine. The standout being a 2000 Peachy Canyon DeVine Cab Sauv, decanted and showing rather well for its age (okay, that was the first bottle we drank and I can't really remember any of the ones that followed...red, white, beer, tequila?!?). As I drove past the high school on my way to drop Shelby off at preschool (thank god for that break today!), I couldn't help but recall the mindless days of my teenage years....drinking myself into a stupor only to awake the following morning with a clear head and a tight stomach, hitting the snooze button a few times before I rolled down to the kitchen where someone made me breakfast, riding off to face my day of socializing and sitting still while someone else performed educational lectures, made lists, and filled my brain with interesting information. Seems like yesterday I was the kid going to school instead of the parent. So, I'm turning up the radio, wishing for a cigarette, hanging my hand out the window and grinning at the day before I realize that I'm 31, driving a minivan with two car seats, and rocking out to Barney the whole way home. Here's to the flat stomachs of yesterday.

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