It appears I went to a Halloween party last night.
I drank what I thought was a perfectly responsible amount of what I thought was a champagne-and-cranberry-juice punch, only to later learn that there were also a half dozen bottles of rum in it too, which would possibly explain why I woke up in the laundry pile this morning.
Me, as either a cross-dressing Marie Antoinette...or a Sexy George Washington.
Jason, as Dick Cheney.
My wedding ring kept catching on the lace sleeves so I left it at home, thus making me and my bra very popular with two guys dressed like hot dogs. It was a proud moment.
Today I am trying my hardest to effectively parent my child without getting up from the couch, while thinking about how good it would feel to just go ahead and vomit already, my God.
UPDATE: I just did, and it was everything I dreamed it would be.