Friday was the last day of school and if you have kids then you know that, no, that doesn't mean it's the last time you take your kids to school and the last time you pick them up.
If you're hanging with the Catholics, you go to Mass. Then you have Awards Day, where they give out awards and may I just POINT OUT that Perfect Attendance Awards just SUCK? Big time? We have to shut down school at least one Friday every spring over the Crud, and here you're handing out awards for coming to school SICK? Will you stop and THINK?
Then, because you're hanging with the Catholics, the drinking will commence. In this case, the owner of our Mexican restaurant is a school parent so we go to the restaurant. Where there are margaritas and because he is our friend, our margaritas have a gold layer on top that doesn't come standard. And may God have mercy on the people who are NOT hangin' with the Catholics and showed up for lunch. It should go without saying, however, that if ever in my life I walked into an eatery and it was full of close to a hundred elementary school children all wearing either red or white polo shirts and khakis or navies, I think I'd have sense enough to turn around and walk out. Quickly.
And THEN, because you're hanging with the Catholics you go to the Mexican restaurant owner's HOUSE, and sit beside his pool and drink Mexican beer all day. With fried corn and may I just say...that shit is AWESOME.
Sometimes, however, life kicks in. Hugo brought out the tequila at five o'clock (it's a law) at which point I realized...I had to be at the funeral home at 5:45. I had been drinking since 11 o'clock, had been thrown in the pool twice and had been on the wrong end of a water gun every time I turned around. I got my clothes changed. I semi got my hair dried.
I couldn't do a DAMN thing about the alcohol breath or demeanor. I'm waiting to see if I made it into a Sunday sermon today. I've heard of that happening. To me.