Wages of Sin

It may be a truth universally acknowledged that, when you are a parent, as much as you *need* to get drunk on occasion, you *can't*, for a variety of reasons. Or rather, you probably do crawl into the bottle, knowing full well that you're going to pay for it in spades the next day, or in dire situations, the same night. We went to a friend's birthday party on Friday night, and I'll say right here that I really, really, really should not drink champagne on an empty stomach, not eat a great deal for dinner, and then fill in the rest with wine, red, dessert, or otherwise. However. It *was* a very fun night, and so I don't feel particularly guilty about getting my drink on; it's just that 6 a.m. came so very, very early.

The best part about post-drinkums, I think, is that you know the second day is going to make you feel like a rock star, no matter how early the kids get up. This is sort of the extent of my living on the edge, these days...but when I remember certain, ah, incidents from my college years (and stories I shared quite gleefully at aforementioned party), it's probably a lot better for my liver and other vital organs.