Walk of Shame

So this past weekend I participated in my sister-in-law’s bachelorette party as well as Cory attended the bachelor party.  And man, I am not as young as I used to be.  I can’t recover from a night out as well as I did in college.  (I mean I go to a late movie (9:15pm) nowadays and end up needing to take the next day off of work just to recoup).  There were two things that happened to me that night that made me realize that this mama doesn't have her groove back (or maybe never had it to begin with).

1. One of the activities for the festivity was to decorate can koozies to sell at the bars that evening.  So being me, I figured I must make this can koozie as inappropriate as possible but as I started my artwork I drew a blank.  I had to ask a much younger woman to show me how to draw male genitalia correctly.   I found many things to be wrong with that and ended up with what looked like a lopsided rocket ship.

2. The walk of shame.  (I know everyone knows what this is and has done it at least once (a weekend) while in college).  Well as it turns out, the walk of shame is much different as you get older.  A great friend of mine in college used to be my wing woman.  We would stay up late partying (I mean studying at the library-wink, wink) and then in the morning do the walk of shame to the college cafeteria where we would always find ourselves nursing hangovers with omelets and orange juice.  (On a side note: I totally understand how people gain the Freshman 15 in college).  But, as it turns out, those days are long gone.  On Sunday morning after the bachelorette party, I found myself walking to my car a block away from where I spent the night.  But this walk of shame was different and way less cool.  For one, my husband was with me. Secondly, I had an overnight bag packed (and had freshly brushed teeth) and lastly, we discussed rhubarb plants on the walk.  Man, I’m lame.

On a side note: It’s Monday evening and I’m still trying to recover.  I also discovered three shot glasses in my purse this morning that I must have "acquired" from a bar. 

Spencers

So, it’s pretty safe to say that my parenting choices can be questionable, at best.  And last night was no different.  My little family of three spent the evening at the mall (of course) and we had a mission.  I needed to pick up a few things for my sister-in-law’s bachelorette party.  We ended in up at Spencers.  This store has the ability to even make me blush but apparently my child enjoys its ambiance.

I’m sure you are wondering why I brought my child into a store like this.  And I have no real answer for you.  I’m still trying to figure that out as well.

Any who, while I was browsing the bachelorette section of the store (You know which section I’m talking about- the one with the shot glasses that light up and the necklaces covered with plastic replicas of male genitalia. Don’t act like you have never browsed in this section and don’t know what I’m talking about.).

While I was browsing, apparently, so was my three year old.  Chase was standing next to a young couple while he spotted a sucker.  A sucker of a- for lack of better words- man jewels.  Chase looks over at the couple and says, “I want that.  I want to lick it.”  The couple both looked at each other and burst out laughing.  All I could do was look at them and say, “I know, I know, this is inappropriate,” as I hung my head in shame and walked away (with a penis sucker in hand of course).

I completely understand bringing my three year old into this store may not have been a suitable parenting choice, but Chase really does enjoy suckers and his man jewels, so I could see why he wanted the tasty treat.  

On a side note, the store also sports disco lights and my child enjoys dancing under the lights yelling, “I like to dance like my mama.”  I am hoping he is talking about a different mama. 

Chase at Spencers begging for a giant drinking cup. 

Concessions Stand

This Holiday weekend we decided to go to Paul Bunyan Land.  We had discussed this mini-vacation with Chase for a week prior to get him excited.  And excited he was.  Well, he was excited when he kept telling everyone that he came into contact with that he was going to “Disney Land.”  He was always less excited when I corrected him and said we were actually going to Paul Bunyan Land.

Nonetheless, my parents, my sister, her two boys, Chase and I spent the entire day on Thursday going from one ride to the next.  The children had the time of their lives while I tried not to ralph on myself.  As it turns out, amusement parks aren't all that much fun as a parent.  I don’t know what made me more sick… the continuous spinning of the tilt-a-whirl or the fact that I was on a ferris wheel with two preschoolers and no seat belts.  Both made me queasy.  

After going on many rides, I saw a glimpse of heaven in the distance, well not exactly heaven, but close; a concessions stand.  Chase and I both share a love for snacks so it didn’t take much convincing to get him to head in the direction of the greasy, overpriced “snacky, snacks” (as Chase would call them).  Chase and I stood in line and discussed what snacks we were going to purchase.  All was going as planned until the cute blonde girl behind the concession counter asked my curly headed child what he would like.  I don’t know if Chase suddenly got confused or if he was trying to impress the leggy blonde, but he blurted out, “Miller Lite.”  The blonde behind the counter burst out laughing as I muttered (trying desperately to pretend like my three year old child didn't just try to purchase a beer), “He said lemonade. He wants lemonade.”  But she wasn't fooled and replied, “He totally just asked for beer.” 

Anyways, Chase ended up with a lemonade slush and popcorn and I ended up $7.50 poorer, with a tat bit less self-respect. (I know, I know. By now you would assume I wouldn't have any self-respect left. Don’t worry, at this rate, by next Friday there won’t be any left to loose.)