So if you have been following along, you know that I have had a pretty lousy work week.
Dipping into the rum balls is one thing, but by Thursday night, I really was mentally hurtin'. Miss Roo was studying at a friend's house, and when I picked her up, we stopped at the local pharmacy for assorted needed supplies.
And wine coolers.
We all know that I'm a total lightweight. This has been documented elsewhere.
And it struck the Roo-girl as hilarious when I headed straight for the liquor department. She even helped me pick out a flavor. (Hey, pomegranate-berry ... can't be bad, right? Or ... maybe ... ah, whatever.)
Anyway, when we got home, we each went to our separate corners. She took a bowl of ice cream to her room. I took my wine cooler and climbed into bed with my laptop.
*insert appropriate time-passing music here while I drank deeply of the nectar of Bartles and Jaymes*
My cell phone rang at some point. I knew it was Roo because it was about the time she usually calls me to ask me to tuck her in.
(Yes, she has been asking me to "come say goodnight" for several weeks now. Whatever made me hate 14?? Oh, wait. Now I remember. Heh.)
My phone was actually buried in the bedcovers. I could hear it, but I couldn't find it. I stopped trying and just wandered down to her room instead. Meanwhile, I could hear my phone start to ring a second time.
"Sheesh," I snapped as I entered her room. "Stop calling. I'm here."
"Ooohhhhh," she said, looking me straight in the eye.
Yep. That's me.