This weekend my sister and I were to join together for a long weekend full of such girlish things as tea parties and crumpets, perfected knitting skills, and reading favorite passages from Little Women. But then I stepped off the plane and she slowed her car to a gentle roll so I could jump in without much harm and it only got grittier from there out.
I won't divulge many of the details, but I'm told that's typical of a pending case. My bucket list took a huge hit this weekend. I shot not just one gun, but two. Two. Guns. And on one of them, I just missed the bullseye twice. The other gun I'm not certain I was hitting anything in the same general direction as I shot. But, no worries! I only made my gun range compadres scatter one time when I forgot to not aim the gun at them. I think we can all agree I did quite well.
We shared favorite shows and watched them until the wee hours of the morning on a gigantic screen. We ate seriously amazing food. A lot of seriously amazing food. I was introduced to new friends and a new card game that shall go nameless as I'm not totally certain of my readers age range and offendability. Suffice it to say, I won lots and I shouldn't be bragging about that.
This weekend felt a bit like an adult version of spring break minus the typical spring break shared STDs and/or vomiting in your friend's hair while you hold it so she doesn't throw up in it.
Its good to be home, but, last night when the girls asked, "What happens when a clown blows his line?", the answer I uncontrollably shouted at them was clearly unacceptable in my regular surrounding.
For those of you in the know, I didn't even need Michael Jackson for that round.
Total success.
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