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| My version of Fat Tuesday. Plus some good Irish beer. |
Ned and I have plans tonight for beer and wings with Meg and her gloriously Irish husband at 7:30. He calls her 'darling'. Ned calls me Joe. Just sayin'.
In true Ned fashion, he made an appointment to get our taxes done at 6. On Fat Tuesday. When I've made it all too clear that I'm giving up drinking for Lent, and today is my last (of many) hurrahs. Ned gets me every time. But he was pretty cooperative about it, after me asking him to be, and he left the house texting the tax guy.
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| Ned's version of Fat Tuesday. |
He might have been cooperative because he finally has something to look forward to. Those Buffalo blues strike Ned more than anyone else I know. So I booked us a beach house for 2 weeks at the Jersey Shore. Positively glorious 2 week stretch of sun, sand, and....Kiwi Herman. She's looking into it, folks. And my sister will be an hour and a half away with the cousins and, of course, Mimi is coming with us. Vacation ain't vacation without the little ones' beloved Mimi. And Ned and my beloved escapes. Ned stared at the sky last night, nodding his head, listening distantly to me chattering away about the beach, and said "Yea. should be sweet." If it weren't for him nodding his head the entire time, I wouldn't have caught on to the intensity of his emotions. Ned is looking forward to vacation.
And I am looking forward to tonight. Ned's always been a little more long-term than me.
Haha - cute. Are you going to be hungover by 8:00 (I'm thinking more that time, what say you?) I'm jealous of the beach house, for sure. I just can't wait for summer, period!
ReplyDeleteMeg don't get any ideas. She didn't invite you to the beach house. lay off. gee whilickers.
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