Jose Cuervo and Me

Oh Tequila, you are a friend of mine. Or so I thought...

For the married with children, a wild, carefree night on the town is a rare event, only occuring when the stars are in perfect alignment. The 'stars' usually consist of a number of things including; a responsible babysitter, plenty of cash, a safe ride home, the right environment, the right group of friends, and an uneventful Sunday. Saturday night happened to be one of those nights, at least for the most part. Although I didn't give it great consideration at the time, I realized, too late, that Sunday wasn't exactly the most uneventful day to choose for my bigger than life hangover.

Nothing feeds the soul like good, loud music, preferably 80's rock, good company, dancing and, oh yes, my dear friend, Tequila. Oh Tequila, you are a friend of mine..., or so goes one of my favorite country songs, I like to drink you with a little salt and lime... And then, Amanda Marshal would say, "Oh my god! I woke up with a snake tattoo... and I think that my tongue's pierced too.

Truthfully, I have a love/hate relationship with Tequila. I only love Tequila when I've been drinking. Once I start loving Tequila, I have trouble stopping. When the Tequila begins to wear off I realize how much I hate it, and how much it hates me. If I didn't know better I would think it was because I'm getting old, but my extensive experiences with my dear friend become vivid memories as I suffer through my day-after '26 oz. flu'. Aren't there more bad ones than good ones? One step out of bed sets the world spinning precariously, and me to my knees, which for some reason doesn't seem to help. I crawl into the bathroom for the magical Tylenol and the few gulps of water my queasy stomach will handle. A shower may help, if only I could stand up...

My biggest hangover challenge... tying my son's hockey skates with my numb fingers, and spinning head. Every time I get the lace through the eyelets, a wave of nausea hits, I stand up and need to begin again.

My saving grace... Sponge Bob's new movie. Darkness, preoccupied children, popcorn and a VERY large pop, start to bring me around.

Every once in awhile, I still think I can smell Tequila somewhere, the water in the sink? the pantry? my closet? I didn't get any on my clothes, did I? Oh yeah... there was an upside-down margharita, wasn't there...

It's called the annual mom's night out. There's a good reason why it's an annual event. Any more often could kill one of us. Why is it that so many great things have such painful consequences?

Sometimes living, loving, laughing and having fun can be more painful than you would think. It's a good thing I'm a warrior!