Margaritas

Last night Jeff and I went to a going away party at a Mexican Restaurant here on the base. This restaurant is only about a half a mile from our house so we decided to walk. That way we could both have Margaritas. It was a blast. We sat in the middle of a long table, great conversation all around. I got to hear some of Jeff's best stories. Am I the only one, sometimes I really enjoy hearing my husband tell his stories, especially while sipping a Margarita. Those were the best Margaritas I have ever had the pleasure of drinking.

I had a terrible day. Mandy and Lily are driving me nuts. Lily is having an allergic reaction and the screaming about everything all day is driving me mad. Mandy is a fifteen year old girl, need I say more? So it was nice to have a night out. We stayed later than everyone else, having one last drink before walking home.

The walk home took forever. We were quite a bit more inebriated than we thought. Have you ever tried to walk home in the dark, half drunk? Every step seemed to make the distance increase instead of decrease. I was having to concentrate to keep my feet working one in front of the other. Jeff kept saying things that would cause me to laugh so hard, I could no longer keep track of my feet. I haven't had this type of feeling in ages.

As we exchanged stories of previous drinking adventures. Stories we had shared countless times, I noticed that all these stories take place before we met. Jeff's drunken escapades and mine were before we even knew of the others existence. We were both in a grown up phase of our lives when we met, fell in love and married. It is fun to act like a kid with him.

When I tell my stories to Jeff, I leave out some of the details. Not those details. But, it seems to me, back in the day, I was really very insecure and really very focused on finding a husband. How pathetic. It seems that my every thought was, does he like me? I would obsess about the boy who got away or the one I wanted to catch. As I tell the stories those details, which seemed of utmost importance at the time are inconsequential, the real details are the funny bits that seem extraneous at the time. As I retell the stories of my misbegotten youth I realize that I had a lot of fun. I had always remembered it as being painful and lonely. But truthfully I had a lot of friends, and a lot of fun.

I pray for some kind of wisdom to impart to my daughter how to see past all the crap we tend to focus on and see the fun. The crap is always there but so is the fun. It is weird how I can relieve a painful portion of my life with new eyes, it is somehow freeing. The teenager is put back away and mommy is back, dishes to wash, laundry to fold, flowers to water, hope you have a great day.