Greetings from Puberty Hell!
My husband and I are escaping to Las Vegas for a few days to a) celebrate his birthday and b) get a reprieve from our pubescent child. This puberty stuff is bad business. Tell me again, please, why I wished for girl children?
Three and a half days without puberty issues. Bliss.
Please know that you’re in my thoughts and in my heart, and hopefully I’ll come home with a good story or two. Maybe not one including Mike Tyson’s tiger and a random chicken in our hotel room*, but stories nonetheless. Vegas is always good for a story, even though they encourage you not to tell. Ha! As if I’ve ever been able to shut my pie-hole in my life.
I hope your weekend is full of Fall festivities and family and love.
And please, be here when I’m back?
* Did it bug anyone else that in the movie The Hangover, they never explained where the chicken came from? It drove me nuts. I kept harping about it, and my husband just didn’t get it. He said, “who cares about a random chicken?” Apparently, freaks like me, because I was waiting the entire movie for the explanation of why a chicken was in the hotel room. Argh! Unsatisfactory!
Is it just me?
And with that thought, I leave you for Sin City. I’ll pull the lever for you.