The Long Way

Saturday night lasted until Sunday morning.  You were at a party, best party you go to all year.  People you like, much drinking of Christmas spirits, all kinds of food (though in retrospect, you really should have eaten more of it…), and this year – tacky Christmas sweaters.

"After" (The "Before" had conspicuously placed jingle bells.)

So when you get home at 4 in the morning, reeling from red wine, wishing you’d thought to eat dinner 10 hours previous, trying to remember who pulled who’s lip piercing out of who’s tacky sweater, and still wearing your own tacky sweater,

the last thing you want to see is the father-in-law who babysat for you, still fully dressed, not having been to bed, telling you that your son has been throwing up the entire evening.  Seven times.

And as you close one eye in an attempt to hear him more clearly, it sinks in that you are a terrible, terrible mother.  Knowing there is no redemption for you right now, and that the grandfather is clearly capable, more capable than you, you pass out.

And as The Boy’s bout of stomach flu clears up, you start to feel not so shit hot yourself, and you re-evaluate your relationship with your stomach’s contents, analyzing how close you actually are to them, and if you can bear to part with them.

But there is no time for such considerations, as The Girl takes the metaphorical baton from her brother, and commences Linda-Blair-in-Exorcist style purging.  Throughout the night.  And into the morning.

And when she is done with the virus, bright-eyed and chipper and demanding once more, The Husband takes a crack at it, hosting the virus for a shift.

And then it’s Tuesday, and you’re saying to yourself, “Wait a minute, wasn’t I going to have a proper hangover, here?”

If this hangover is still happening, you’re taking the very long way around.


26 responses to “The Long Way

  1. That really is very inconsiderate of them to get in the way of your hangover, but such is the lot of a mother.

  2. oh dear… sorry you can’t indulge your hangover Ginny

  3. now, you just flush that guilt down into the sewer with all that barf you’ve been dealing with…. doesn’t do anyone any good. barf or guilt. better out than in…

  4. ummmm… ouch?!?!?! 🙂

  5. Ugh…nothing worse than a red wine hangover. Keep in mind that you are guilty of nothing more than bad timing. Illnesses should be considerate of your hangover schedule and show up much much later!

  6. That sucks so freakin’ bad! I am so, so, so sorry for you. That’s the worst!

  7. There are a lot of instances where my husband shirks duty and lets me bear the brunt of it but kid puke is not one of them. I am a sympathetic puker, I see it, hear it or smell it and I am gagging. My gag reflex gives me about a 5 second count and then, yep, it’s over. So husband handles bugs of the stomach variety. I cannot imagine coming home mildly drunk to a sick kid, I think I’d either throw up from the stress or become immediately sober depending on how far gone I was. Glad it was you FIL instead of an inept teenager. Oh, and that sweater, awesome.

  8. I just want to mail you an ice pack and then call you up and say, “Vagina.” Tell me that wouldn’t make it all better!

  9. Wow, way to rock the 2nd person perspective!

    At least you’re past it now, and have a whole new weekend to look forward to. =)

  10. there’s always new years!

  11. Yeah, like FHL says, the 2nd person somehow amplifies the drunkening (and subsequent chunkening). Lovely. Red wine never worked for me either.

    Hope your boy’s all better now. And hope his grandpa didn’t take it too badly. These things happen. It’s what makes the holidays so, uh, memorable?

  12. Fuck guilt. and now i’m about to give you the best advice you’ll ever receive on the interweb. you fucked up, not by being a bad mother (you weren’t) but by not finding something to drink in the house and then immediately going out in the morning to buy more red wine and maybe some meds for the rest of the family, drink steadily through all illnesses and when it’s all done enjoy a right proper hangover. happy x-mas indeed.

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