I'm hung over today and ashamed. Champagne is not friendly fire, it's a weapon of mass destruction and I am a hell of a lightweight target. I couldn't speak in simple sentences by the time Lochlan carried me upstairs.
You'rnt Pooh Bear. You're Owl. Owl knows thing. 'Watch out for the jagulars!' you say. I'm listen. I try.
Oh, Jesus, Bridge, come here.
He opted for a cool shower for both of us while I worked on coherent speech. I felt okay, par for the course as my inebriations seem to affect my verbal and motor-skills first always.
Better?
Possotly.
Time for sleep.
He should haven't named me Kessie. Whyyyyyy.
The bird?
Yeah. Why am me Pigalit?
The annoyance factor, probably.
Thank fuck you.
Yep. Sleepy time, baby.
And lights out for me but then the Devil came to breakfast and he was attentive and helpful and he saw the kids off to school while I gingerly cradled my skull from the inside by gritting my teeth which worked for a time until the rest of the collective appeared and found out I was feeling poorly this morning. They began to talk loudly and slam things around the kitchen as hard as possible because they think it's funny.
I won't ever do that again but rarely do any of us drink to excess these days.
Caleb waits until everyone wanders off with coffee/juice/toast and Lochlan has gone to fetch Daniel and then he looks at me. He hasn't shaved. He's in a slate blue t-shirt and jeans. Bare feet. I kind of want to stare for a while but also I still want to barf.
You should have stayed last night. I would have made sure you remained awake until you felt better.
Such concern for someone who must have refilled my drink six times over.
We were having fun.
Too much fun.
Not enough fun. He stares at my eyes. It's hurting me. I look out at the water.
Are you going to follow me around all the time now that you're retired? Is this what it's going to be like?
Yes. I think I will. At least until the novelty wears off.
Great.
It is, indeed. I'm having fun so far. What about you?
