Is that still sand between my toes... why yes, I do believe it is...
(Pssst... for more musical musings, check out Soccer Mom in Denial.
You'll be glad you did!)
Home again. Will tantrumed his way to summer school this morning. I'm moping around, sort of due to the fact that our trip is over but mostly because our air is still not working and it's hotter than hell in the house. And Miss Thing here does not do heat well.
I am consoling myself by remembering our grownup-night out last week, when the kids stayed home and us 'rents went out and tied one on. I'll spare you the details for now, but suffice it to say that I felt the after-effects well into the next day. And Jägerbombs are a wondereous thing. As are sunglasses worn to bed to block out the light. Get the picture?
Anyhoo... We spent a good part of the early evening sitting outside on the water at a marina, sipping cocktails and listening to a blues-jam-band called the Trouble Starters. And today's offering is one of the songs they sang -- "My Baby Is a Seafood Platter." This rendition isn't them, unfortunately, but the sentiment is evident. Heads up: it's a little raunchy and rather silly and a lot of fun. Just like our grown-up evening.