Sober Translation

So, the night of the wedding reception.


Holy Bloody Marys, batman, was that a good time!


After the reception, we closed down the local bar in town, as is typical of wedding receptions in our small town. We had "secured" the Pal as our sober driver and he patiently waited outside the movie theater for us to stumble our way out of there. (In hindsight, good example, much? Gosh.)


Our party was rather...large. Two vehicles large. Scratch that, more than two vehicles large. And while we were driving a bunch of "borrachos" (look it up) to my parent's home, it suddenly struck me how ridiculously packed into our minivan we were and how hilarious the conversations in the van were.


And so, I handled it like any good blogger would...I took it to Twitter. Only, things weren't quite coming across as I had intended.


Read on (to get the full "story" start at the bottom of the first set and read up, then move on to the second):

Time for a sober translation.


First of all, we were in a van. Not a can. I've never actually been in a can, unless you count a porta potty as a can, then yes, I have, and I'd never want to be in one with "do" many people it was illegal. Oy. (Can you imagine?!)


That dang 's' and 'd' are too close on the keyboard.


Secondly, we were driving some of my baby brother's friends home. We are 10 years apart, many of them haven't seen Pal since he was a wee little babe and now suddenly that wee little babe was their sober ride home.


They were a little weirded out by the whole thing. While I just thought it was too hilarious and was trying not to wet my pants.


Next up, my dad was, indeed, sitting (don't ask about the extra 'g', I can't explain it) in a car seat.


There really was a kid in the trunk. In a suit and tie. I remember him opening the trunk door and crawling in the back at the bar and I didn't think anything of it. Kind of along the lines of, "Oh, he's getting in the trunk. WHAT A GREAT IDEA!"


Several minutes later, I realized what I tweeted and suddenly, in my fuzzy mind, became aware that I just implied to the entire world that one of my children was in the trunk. So, I felt the need to clarify that the kid was over 21. Apparently it was very important to me to re-clarify that the kid was in the trunk, not the car.


Important details, my friends.


Then, morning came. And with it the opportunity to blame someone else for forcing vodka down my throat.


Also, it seems as though my fingers still weren't operating properly..."who the gel"?


And now you know the rest of the story!