On Saturday, I got to drive up to Green Lake, Wisconsin, and take part in a beyond-terrific bachelorette party. (Okay, technically the party started the night before- in Madison, at the bars n’ such- but out of respect to The Roo, I kept my pregnant self home until the lake house part of the festivities.
And it was festive. Seriously. The gals were a great bunch, and we did all sorts of lake house-y things such as sit on a dock for hours, have a wine tasting, eat n’ eat n’ eat (until it became downright laughable how much I had consumed), play games around a table until the wee hours, and even did crafts for the upcoming wedding. (As P.J. responded to me when I said we were doing bridal crafts: “…Ah.” Why, don’t guys usually do this kinda stuff at bachelor parties?)
I was even given a ridiculously awesome king-sized bed in my own room with an attached bathroom. (At this point in the pregnancy, those gestures alone reduced me to tears.) I WAS SO EXCITED for a solo night of opulent, decadent, glorious sleep.
YAY FOR BACHELORETTE PARTIES! (And cheese curds.)
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| Sometimes you just need to chill with your girls, amiright? |
In fact, it would rank up there as one of the best overnight/get outta Dodge/gal times I’ve had in a looong time…except for the minor fact that, as I was climbing into said king-sized bed in said solitary room (with private bathroom)…
…I realized that I was not alone and that someone was in fact in my bed…
…and that someone was very drunk…
…and mistook the edge of the mattress for a toilet (same with the floor…and part of the hallway)…
…and so my hedonistic plans of sprawling in a bed and not gettin’ up for no one were halted for about an hour…
…while I placed said drunk gal back in her bed, cleaned said pee-peed bed, cleaned said pee-peed floor (with help, oh, I had lots of help from just about every other non-drunk, non-pee-peed gal at the party) and cleaned my pajama pants because ohmyGodallthepee.
But it was fine. Because I [eventually] got to sleep. (Alone.) And it’s like that old adage: If You Must Erroneously Pee On Someone In The Middle Of The Night, It Might As Well Be A Mom. (No one has ever actually said that.)
So yes, you’re reading correctly. My oh-so rare chance to get a lot of sleep (alone) and not clean up a peed-upon mattress (and person) in the middle of the night was upended when I didn’t get a lot of sleep (alone or otherwise) because I was cleaning up a peed-upon mattress (and person) in the middle of the night.
Sigh.
But I’ll still chalk it up to a really great time away where I got to hang out with awesome ladies, talk about non-toddler things, replace all of the city air in my lungs with fresh air caught straight off the dock, and listen to British books on CD during the drive (because I am approximately 97 years old).
And when I came home to my girls and P.J.? I appreciated them so much. Because it’s good to have a lengthy drive and [most of] and evening without tending to someone and time to actually miss them the people with whom I live.
Best of all? P.J. had put new sheets on the bed.
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