Try to find balance in this story. We had dinner last night with some friends at a sushi joint near our house. It was a casual dinner with good food and some good discussion. I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to drink when we first arrived, so I sipped some ice water and tried to determine if I wanted to fight a hang over on Sunday morning or would I prefer something to “sip” through the evening that would prevent my attendance at 2 soccer games and a hockey game on Sunday from being accompanied by that semi dizzy, pounding headache that generally follows my inability to embrace the concept of moderation. Now, if we back up a bit, our Saturday started kind off on a positive note. Deena, my wife, had plans to go on a “home tour” with her mom, so I took our three kids to our oldest son’s soccer game and then I did what any brave father would do- I took the kids out to lunch, followed by a run to the grocery store and then we returned home, so the kids could attack the neighborhood on their bikes and I could spend some time cleaning up the lawn (it was the first time in 7 or 8 days that Michigan had been exposed to the sunshine, so I was taking advantage of it).
Alright, back to my drink order at dinner. I decided to go with a glass of scotch (on the rocks, of course) and asked our waitress if they carried a certain brand that I like to drink- Oban. The waitress confirmed they had my bottle behind the bar and my first glass went down a little easier than it probably should have, so in true form, I had to have another (if you haven’t seen the movie Anchorman- starring Will Ferrell- this is where we would insert a voice overlay of Ron Burgundy singing- scotchy, scotch, scotch…I love scotch!) Glass number 2 was iced and ready for consumption.
I digress again. As I finished our yard work earlier in the day I thought I would take my daughter to the park to play and as I watched my kids run around like maniacs I played around on my phone and decided to post on Facebook that we were going out on Saturday night to which I received a response from our friends that they were looking forward to dinner and what a great night it would be for a bonfire. I agreed, but I don’t own a fire pit, so another sweet impulse hit me…I had to go buy one! My wife, who isn’t a big fan of impulse decisions, made it home from her home tour and was greeted with; “Hi honey, welcome home, I’m off to buy a fire pit”, which sent her into a bit of a tail spin. Per usual, we argued about the level of impulsivity, but we agreed it would be nice to have, so off I went (at5pm-dinner reservations at 630pm- to buy this thing). I made it home with “the pit” just before6pm, got showered and was off to dinner.
Okay, back to glass of scotch number two. I finished my second glass and the bill comes to the table as we were ready to head back to our house, take part in the minor assembly required of my new pit and enjoy a beer or two on the deck, but remember…we are in Michigan, so of course, it started to rain (now my impulse purchase will remain in my trunk, which really made my wife happy). As I look at our bill, to pile on the irritation, I have to laugh that I kind of, sort of, forgot to ask the waitress what year of my brand of scotch they carried (oh yeah, it was clearly a couple years “older” than the bottle I would typically drink), so thankfully I only had 2- $20.00 glasses of scotch, which added some sweet fuel to the fire and made my wife want to throw me into a head lock and choke me.
In conclusion…my wife is a saint and although we ended up laughing about the evening as we typically do, PLEASE don’t ask Deena about how much we should tip a waitress (after a groupon, dividing a bill into two parts and ensuring that a fair percentage is applied to the bill). Note to self…don’t attempt to calculate this complicated dinner arrangement while under the influence of over priced scotch. Thanks for catching my scotch based math error- teacher friends!