Crazybananas

Where can you find BBQ, cake (if you hurry and beat the rush), trash cans dressed up to look like clowns (extremely frightening), lots of canned Budweiser, a mullet or three, husbands beating their wives with blow-up baseball bats, one drunk Mikayla and a blond woman who is a very impressive skiball player.

For example…

This site is pretty much constantly a work in progress. Someday I’ll be satisfied with it’s looks and functionality, but that day is certainly not today. So just ignore the lack of pictures and pretty layouts. At least until after the first birthday party is over.

The babysitter is sick, and I can’t seem to find anyone to watch Lucylu for the day…so it looks like my Memorial Day vacation is going to be another day longer.

Have you ever wondered how embarrassed you’d be if someone walked in on you whist in the middle of an, um, well, sacred act? A compromising position? It’s very embarrassing. Extremely embarrassing. Poor, poor Heath.

Last night’s festivities included another gathering of the infamous supper club. We decided instead of eating at someone’s house, we were going to attempt to be social out at a restaurant…one that hadn’t been pretested by any of us. We decided to go to Blue Koi, a noodle house in midtown full of hippies and their children. The amount of children was surprising. I just couldn’t imagine sitting Lucy down in a hip restaurant and then attempting to keep her quiet so the artists and doctors and bongo-playing musicians at the next table wouldn’t be disturbed. And I couldn’t imagine offering her this:

It’s called bubble tea, a beverage from Taiwan that mixes fruity flavors with SUGAR SOAKED BALLS OF TAPIOCA! Squishy, black, tapioca balls in my drink. And Mikayla’s drink. So we added tequila. Then we added a bit more tequila. And now, everyone in our supper club probably thinks we have major issues. Which we do. But mostly these issues are magnified by accidentally sucking a squishy, black tapioca ball up our huge staws.

Which I just realized sounds a bit dirty.

He may not dance or sing, but he has very soft hair. Freakishly soft, like petting a bunny or a koala bear. And when I woke up this morning, he was sleeping on the floor outside of our daughter’s room because she’d been up all night teething. He stayed there so I could get some sleep. Worth much more than dancing or singing.