So I just got back from dinner with some bloggers. I met Bossy; who’s kinda hot and gracious and not bossy at all. And of course Chris & Kerri were there and so was Rhi. We we’re sharing stories and I was of course talking too much as usual. As usual because I tend to ramble a bit when I’m hungover and sick. Yes sick and hungover. Hungover because I took advantage of the perfectly beautiful day and ignored the fact that I’m recovering from THE PLAGUE 2.0 and went out with friends. Went out as in; may have included handfuls of mojito’s, a ride through downtown in Dr. B’s convertible while he was out of town and a strip club. So yes, its my fault that I awoke with a hazy memory of the previous night with a sinus headache, sore throat and maybe a slight fever. Go ME!!

Go me because we were enjoying a plate of hummus at The Kennedy School and I rambled on about my wonderful perfect daughter and my dog and then described my son as a juvenile delinquent. I understand that most 16 year-old boys are juvenile delinquents. But still our relationship has been rocky to say the least. On the way home the Juvenile Delinquent calls and its quite upset about the loss of his best friend who is suddenly dating a girl he was interested in. What does a delinquent do when he has nowhere to turn? He calls his loving mother; his wise mother; his understanding and gentle mother. Who am I kidding? I know I was a juvenile delinquent once myself.

Suffice to say, I now feel two feet tall. I’m eating my words. I love my kid even when he pisses me off and I feel like punching him in the face. Please don’t tell my kid I went to a strip club.