***Man, if Mom finds out about this “rant” you are going to be on the s(&% list, but don’t worry, it’s safe with me! Love your Bro J ***
Many years ago, Mark (he wasn’t The Big Daddy yet) and I celebrated New Year’s Eve with some of our friends and siblings. It was one fun party, but as soon as we walked outside and I got a deep breath of fresh air, it became apparent that I was smashed. I thought it might be the orange roughy I had for dinner, but my fellow partygoers said it was the hours of mixing beer, wine, rum and coke and champagne. Allegedly. As I staggered to the car I said something about “not feeling so good”, so Mark and my sister-in-law got in the back seat and I sat in the front next to my brother should we have to pull over………..
………and we did.
Three times.
The last time was on an embankment where I hurled up more of my New Year’s Rockin’ Eve while sleet was hitting me smack dab in the face, and then I climbed my drunken self back into the car. I wouldn’t close the door for fear of falling out of the car and so my brother got out, came around to my side and closed it for me. Mark tells me that at this point he and Nancy were laughing so hard in the back seat they were crying. I kept apologizing to my brother for causing so much trouble and he said, “Ah, Kath, don’t worry about it. We’ve all been there. Nobody needs to know anything about this.”
Jim, you’re a great guy. A really, really, great guy and big brother. Sniff. I’m such a lucky girl. Well, not at the moment with all the puking, and maybe not tomorrow with the hangover, and maybe not the day after that if I can’t get this barf off my coat, and maybe not the day after that if I ruined these shoes, but after that I’ll be lucky again. Won’t I, brother? Won’t I be a lucky girl again?
We made it back to their house where I fell into bed (literally) and slept until 4:00 the next afternoon. I got up and changed out of my party clothes and Mark and I went to my mom and dad’s house to get the rest of our stuff before heading home. I wasn’t at my parents’ house five minutes when Mom said, “Your brother called. Said you made a real ass out of yourself last night.”
***Bro J must have forgotten that I stopped believing anything I said or did was safe with him since January 1st, 1984.***
