White Lightning Axiom: Redux

Okay, I went out drinking last night at a company function. Well, everyone was drinking ... heavily. I kept it to 1 drink an hour, which is VERY light for me. Mostly scotch ... Glenlivet, of course. It's the kind of drink that lets people know that you are not here to get completely plastered on fruity mixed drinks and you fully intend on stating your mind if they care to have a serious discussion with you. Sure, I tossed in a Belvedere Vodka Martini in the middle to loosen up a bit. The jrPM had her fiance along and we briefly talked about Talisker scotch for a bit, but we ended up talking about headier things. Like personal growth, the UN, Turkey, Stem Cell Research, Opinions of America overseas, the Ottoman Empire, Islam ... yeah, light stuff. The gathering wound down and we all went our separate ways. I was in a fairly good mood and not even close to a state of inebriation. No, at 200+ lbs, It would take about 2 drinks an hour to drag me down into a state of inebriation.

Back at the Manor, all was quiet. The hounds were ecstatic to see me as the Mrs set them loose when I got out of the Super Saturn. Yeah, their tails were wagging to hard I was certain that they would accidentally set themselves on fire. After the stampede subsided, the Mrs and I sat down and shared our days experiences with each other. When it came down to how here evening alone fending off the micro-hordette, she had a few interesting observations and experiences. Apparently, they were both very calm and affectionate without my horse-play to get them worked up. However, since they did not burn off the surplus energy that they accumulated during the day, Jacob was entirely uninterested in going to bed. In the first insomniac encounter, the Mrs had let the hounds out to ruin the lawn (damn, if they peed in the new sod I'll be 'pissed'). When she returned inside, there was Jacob clutching his Buzz Lightyear plush action figure (it's not a doll, dammit) and his flannel train blanket. Well, hello there! In a later cases, he had escaped multiple times and was turned back repeatedly. One of the final aborted maneuvers, he actually took the time to look UNDER the door to see if mommy was waiting on the other side before opening the door. The Mrs had wisely donned the light-bending camouflage gear and was waiting beside the door. She heard his pacifier rattling against the floor beneath the door before he began to jimmy the door control panel. Crafty little bugger learns quickly.

Unlike my son, I was no interested in exploring the potentials of being a night owl this evening and went right to bed. My head had begun to hurt a bit, but a glass of pseudo-toxic tap-water and a pair of buffered analgesic tablets did the trick. The following morning was free of any pain and I felt unusually rested. I even woke before my alarm and had a few moments to soak up the blissful feeling while cuddling up to the Somatic Mrs MDMHVONPA. I did find that I lost a few brain cells though. Science says otherwise, but for some reason I had misplaced my keys right after using them to load up the Family Tank. It was strange, but the Mrs figured out where I had mislaid them. I had thought ahead and used the powder room outside the mud room and set my keys next to the sink. Since it was raining out, I figured (correctly) that I would be on the road for quite some time. After washing up, I neglected to retrieve my keys and securely closed the door (the dogs like drinking from open toilets, kids love the blue water). We frantically searched and retraced my path till the Mrs shouted down at me to search the powder room. Argh, mystery solved but yet another memory hole had appeared in the old grey matter. Nutz.

The drive to work could have been worse. Well, only if there were four accidents on the way to the client site instead of the catastrophically crippling three. Rain, accident at Rt1, Rt309 and Rt202 turned the Turnpike into the usual ribbon of multi-colored plastic and metal. The rain only made it worse. And then, some ScrewHead from Florida driving a mangled Lexus decided that he did not have to wait and was weaving in and out of traffic so he could get to the places where the shoulder was wide enough to be used as a new 'jerk-off expressway'. Yeah, I was not in the mood but there was not much I can or should do about that. In fact, the only thing I could do is decide to go out with the guys for Dollar Pint Thursday at the local pub. Yeah, dog of the hair that bit me, but I had not bite so ... whatever. I'll have a pint of the 8.3% alcohol Prussian Imperial Stout. Or whatever I had, it was good with the Hickory burger ... with BACON!