Slumber Party

Sometimes a girl's just gotta stay in.

A friend was throwing a girl's night out (out for us, in her apartment for her) and she had the graciousness to let me bring one tiny man. I was going to do my best to avoid her Jell-O shots but was looking forward to her company.

Things have been going a little rough for me lately, which manifests in several tried-on-and-rejected outfits strewn all over my bedroom. I'm slightly obsessive about dressing to match Max, so the whole experience was exacerbated tonight.

I eventually got Max and myself dressed. I had no sooner wrestled him into a jacket and strapped him into his car seat when he decided to crap his pants.

I was considering an attempt to still conjure the energy to go to the party while I was changing him. But when I came downstairs I had to yell at Hippo for barking at something in the front yard, and she pissed on an oriental rug that has been rolled up in the basement during her puppy year and that Gabe had lugged upstairs and placed in the foyer only yesterday.

Game over.

I had Max and myself dressed in pajamas by 7 p.m. We'll go to bed as soon as he starts drooping his eyes.