Showing posts with label Bridesmaids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bridesmaids. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Can You Babysit Your Dad? I'm Going to Happy Hour


Pleasure is the bait of sin.
Plato


Let's face it. I can only be good for so long.

After four days in the hospital tending my husband after hip replacement surgery, followed by six days at home with only a grocery store and a BandAid run added to my 'oh, there is so a reason I wasn't a nurse' role, I decided to see a movie. Like in a movie theater movie. Called a couple of friends who had the day off.

True to my usual twisted menu of movie/TV watching, Bridesmaids (click to see the trailer) didn't disappoint. I can't tell you too much about it other than I'm glad none of my sons sat with me while I busted my gut laughing. The story was an old one, but the delivery and writing, very funny. Just what I needed.

After the movie, my friends and I sat in the lobby and talked of the day's errands ahead: Linda - grocery store, bank and Lisa had a return and a $5 coupon for something free at Kohl's burning a hole in her pocket. I, of course, had to return to the painkiller infused, over-achieving hip replacement recoverer, lovingly guarded by my 19-year-old son during my two hour escape.

I finally said, "Lets just go get a drink."

"It's 2:00," Lisa said.

"Close enough."

I called youngest son. "Can you babysit your dad a little longer? I have to go to Happy Hour."

Funny how life evolves.

Encouraged by the comic opera in the movie, I decided to forgo my usual glass of wine and ordered a Pomegranate Cosmopolitan. I'd never had one. I was thinking martini = a buzz. Should have ordered a shot of tequila. All I got was a martini glass filled with Kool-Aid and a too sweet toothache. But, gotta try everything once.

An hour later, resuscitated by a change of scenery and conversation with girlfriends, I paid off youngest son and went back to the old boy and his walker. Now, eight days later, if I could only educate him on carpal tunnel syndrome surgery required from thumbing the channel changer on the remote control EVERY 30 F------- SECONDS and the cost of replacing the window said remote will fly through when I get my hands on it, I promise I'll be really good.

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