Some people just know how to party.
On Friday night- after a week in which both P.J. and became totally, thoroughly burned out- we decided to do something quiet. He let me choose. And, like the senior citizen that I am, I picked out a recently gifted (and unopened) 500 piece puzzle. He mixed a couple of bourbon and gingers. And I pulled out a stack of vinyls for listenin’.
It was relaxing, cozy, and not even a little bit embarrassing. Okay, maybe a little bit.
But about two songs into “Eye in the sky” (a wicked good puzzle-doin’ album if ever there were one), we noticed something odd about the puzzle. Upon first glance, it seemed normal enough: cupcakes, frosted fancily, in a multitude of colors. Except, there seemed to be a few pieces that weren’t a multitude of colors.
In fact, they were blank. And it turned out that there were a lot of them.
But never fear! We soon found out why they were blanks: their pictures had fallen off and were floating around in the box like vibrant little ColorForms (anyone with me, here?) just waiting to be matched back up.
I’m pretty sure this is some kind of test.
I excitedly told P.J. that we got to do a puzzle within a puzzle!
P.J. informed me that this wasn’t what he had signed on for!
I noted his preferences. But he still found himself- half a bourbon ginger and half an Alan Parsons Project later- gluing teensy pictures onto teensy cardboard.
Did we finish the puzzle? Oh no. Because one and a half bourbon gingers after the initial sip, both P.J. and I conked out ungracefully on the couch, puzzle pieces gluesticked to our arms and plenty of “to do” pieces still piled into little anthills on the coffee table. The only reason we didn’t spend the night like that is because we both rocketed up the stairs when Susannah bonked out of bed. Once she was settled again, we locked up the house, checked on the remaining two children, and faceplanted into our own bed.
It was 11 p.m.
Making it the best Friday night in years.
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