How to be a slacker mom

08.24.06

I forgot to bring wine coolers to the party this past weekend, so I tried some Boone’s Farm whatever-it-is-funky-wine instead.  Um.  How much is one half of three and a half bottles?  At first I drank it from a glass like the fine young lady I was brought up to be, but after the hazing and peer pressure I had to drink it straight out of the bottle to prove I’m not a snob.  Of course, then they just called me “wino,” so I’m not particularly sure what I gained with that move.

 

But, technically, it was easier to pass the bottle to my drinking partner and back than to keep getting up.  And of course, those stupid little plastic cups always want to tip over when you pour stuff into them.

 

I’m not sure you can actually go on a bender with Boone’s Farm, but let me tell you we sure gave it a good try.  And by the third bottle we were feeling a bit territorial.  We were carrying that bottle from place to place all afternoon.  And the hornet that took a quick dive into our apple wine merely got poured out.  We looked at each other, shrugged, and said, “Ah hell, how much could he have drank?” and took another swig. 

 

I am so over being freaky about hornets.

 

Anyway.  The fun part wasn’t the effect of the tiny bit of alcohol that’s in the stuff.  The fun part was that neither myself nor other gal drink a whole lot as a rule.  Which means… by the third bottle it was pretty easy to convince the boys that we were totally blasted and incapable of being responsible for our children.

 

We earned the title of Slacker moms.

 

Now that makes for a relaxing day.  The boys cooked, watched the kids, handled the temper tantrums, the time-outs, and potty detail.

 

We washed the silverware. 

 

Oh yeah, and we laughed at their shenanigans.

 

You know boys – they think of the coolest games.  Little kid fishing rods come with something called a casting plug.  It’s a weighted plastic or rubber fish tied on instead of a hook so a little kid can learn to cast the line without the complication of hooking things like parents or each other.  Now the three little ones had already caught real fish with real hooks, but that required adult supervision, and preferably a ratio of one adult per every hook under semi-control of a child.  So one of the boys tied a casting plug onto one of the fishing poles.  He wanted to see if he could cast that sucker all the way from the cabin into the lake (he could).

 

As an unexpected bonus (at least I think it was unexpected, but you never know with boys and kids) the kids thought chasing the plug was the best game ever.   I think that game kept two men and three toddlers happily amused for well over an hour.  Go dads!  The best part was when the line got hung up in a tree and the little yellow fish bobbed over the kids’ heads.  Pinata bait.  Priceless. 

 

No, I take it back.  The best part was the intense concentration on the boys’ faces as they tried to reel faster than the kids could run.  Not an easy task with a mini-fishing pole.  They looked all wild-eyed and fierce, and, um, well… comical.  And I took lots of pictures.

 

It was a great day.

 

I think we actually got sick before we got truly tipsy.  There’s an awful lot of sugar in that wine.  And while the Boone’s Farm silliness was rather short lived, I’m here to attest that the Boone’s Farm headache goes on and on.

 

But sometimes that’s the price you pay to be a slacker.

 

Let’s do it again soon.  How about next weekend?