I'm Calling It Quits on Friday

When is it acceptable to have a drink at 10:00 in the morning? How about 1:30 in the afternoon? I'll tell y'all a little bit about how my day has gone and then we can have a discussion regarding early happy hours rules. Sometime in the last couple of days Deaner and I discovered that my military ID was going to expire next week and since he is about to be out of the office for the next two weeks in a row, it was essential that I get a new one before he leaves. Things would get really interesting around here if he went out of town for that long and I was not allowed to go on the base for anything. Of course we left it for the last possible day so Evans and I were rushing to get out of the house this morning to meet Deaner at the ID office. Let me preface the beginning of this story by saying that yesterday was a great day. Is was sunny and warm and we had a really fun dinner out in a small winery with ten other friends AND our child was perfectly behaved. So I woke up this morning on the right side of the bed, happy to see the sun again and ready for a repeat of the day. Sometimes I can be so dumb.

The procuring of the ID turned out to be way easier than expected. If I had only accepted Deaner's lunch invitation instead of saying we needed to keep on with our errands, the day might be going completely different. In the following sequence of events I managed to back out of my parking space, while listening to Evans scream bloody murder, directly into a Mercedes that was just chillin' in my blind spot. Not just a little love tap either. There is definitely damage to both cars. The military police had to be called and we had to wait on them to come for 30 minutes. Deaner was with me but had another meeting to go to so he left me waiting. Evans was watching his DVD and was fine so it was no big deal. Until the battery in my car died. All of this happened once the ass clown military cops showed up. Evans was hollering because the DVD player wasn't playing, I'm freaking out because what the hell am I going to do with a dead car and to top it off, they told me that I was going to have to come give a written statement at the station which might take 2.5 hours because they were "a little understaffed today". I just stood there staring at them. Clearly something in my look registered with them because I was then allowed to give my statement on the spot. Well, it was either the look or the pitch of Evans' wailing.

Statements given, a ticket rewarded to me, Deaner comes back to give my car a jump, a little crying spell and we were off to the commissary. Before jumping to the thought that I should have gone home at that moment and called it a day I should say that it was necessary to go. I knew it was a bad sign when Evans started crying the second we walked through the doors. He refused to sit in the cart so I was forced to hold him in one arm and push the cart with the other. Then I had to hold him with one arm, a package of goldfish for him to munch on in the other hand and push the cart with my stomach. All while carrying on like I was beating him. Oh yeah, I also lost the grocery list. In my haste to exit quickly I grabbed a frozen pizza out of the freezer section only to start an avalanche of about fifteen pizzas cascading onto the floor. I was over it. We paid and left and I have really no idea what we bought. I also don't care. Evans fell asleep in the car about ten minutes from home and now refuses to take a nap despite being exhausted.

Now can we discuss the merits of day drinking? Any thoughts? Happy weekend to everyone!

(the above picture illustrates that Evans has lost his mind. Clearly)