Anyway, Aaron come home and I mix up a batch before dinner is fully done. After two sips I STAB MYSELF IN MY HAND.
Aaron knows where this story is going and is laughing his ass off.
Anyway, half way into dinner Aaron looks at me and says, "You're all splochy."
Shit.
Turns out I'm allergic to something. Tequila? Maybe the Cointreau? Maybe a seasoning in dinner that was suppose to be gluten free?
Who fucking knows.
All I know is this much...
... fuck!
And that was a damn good margarita, too.
10 comments:
Oh Capello. And least you're all still laughing? right? Or was it just Aaron? I like the blog's new subtitle. Poor lady. At least ya had a good drink and meal and thank goodness you got the drugs at home to help you though it all. Do you buy that stuff in giant super-store size cartons?
Wonderful papers ! That is fabulous news about Griffin graduating from
speech ... and yes it is true... we dont expect all sounds to be in until age 8 ! So..are you allergic to margaritas ?
Not an alcohol allergy? That would be way too cruel.
Oh geez Capello. I'm praying you're not allergic to tequila. that would be TRAGIC! But those drinks do look deelish....
oh honey....
sometimes there's just nothin' to say but:
Bless Your Heart...
At least you have enough perspective to keep laughing, and to keep us laughing right along with you! (or is that "near" you...)
I think it is the strawberries.
My mom gets hives from strawberries.
Or maybe you are allergic to knife wounds.
Anything but the tequilla.
Congrats to the G man.
BTW i have severe garden envy. loooking gooood.
I get splotchy every time I drink (beer, vodka, anything). Does that mean I'm allergic to something? I thought it just had to do with having alcohol in the system...
Well, I'm glad you at least got to enjoy a margarita for Cinco de Mayo! I wish I had one myself (and no, right now I don't care whether it makes me splotchy or not!)
Usually I get a little splotchy when I drink (because of the PCOS), but this time I was itchy too. Itchy = allergy.
If I were allergic to tequila, well, my world would frankly come to an end. Margaritas as my friend. You poor dear.
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