So last night I was able to put on my dancing shoes (not really dancing shoes) and go to a fete (Party for non-West Indians). We sent the kids off for the night so I really didn't have to worry about rushing home. At 3am with drinks packed in our little cooler bag we were off to enjoy a morning of fun. We danced, drank, danced, laughed and even lost our cups (Sherise where did we leave our cups??). Soon the party was done and it was time to head home. By the time I got in around 9am my husband was knocked out so I just took a shower and went to sleep. What happened next was like a scene straight out of Carnival Sunday 2014. ( I'll tell you that story another time).
Now let me just say this, THANK YOU SWEET BABY JESUS our two younger kids were with family for the weekend because I don't know how I would have managed.
Around 1pm I awoke to a HORRIBLE headace. I called out to my husband and asked him to bring me some Aleve and a glass of water. As I sat up in the bed to take the pills my morning flashed before my eyes. OMG, why did I drink? Am I going to die AGAIN?, where the thoughts that ran through my head as I ran to the bathroom. By the time I finished bringing up everything I ate and headed back to my room I felt like someone had drop kicked me in the head. Only thing I was thankful for was the fact that I didn't have to deal with any children at that point. As I tried to relax and figure out what the hell I was drinking my husband walks into the room, hands me some ginger ale and then tells me "I'm gonna need you to get it together because Drunk or Sober I bought chicken for you to clean and cook". (Who Knew??)
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