The Man Who Lives In My House has the great good fortune to also be a Man Who Likes His Co-Workers. Twisted, huh? I mean, this never happens. I am not kidding when I say we would be friends with these people anyway. Actually, we ARE friends with these people. In observance of this, we went out on a triple date on Friday night. Adults only.
THAT got your attention. I am serious. We PAID sitters so we could go drink beer and eat burgers. And it was totally worth it except that it rained--we had to drive instead of riding the tandem. Rob (that would be the infamous "mother of all fathers" Rob. Scroll back about a month. You'll find it.), made me laugh so hard that I had a little asthma attack. How suave. At least I did not (quite) snort beer out my nose. Since I was wheezing, it's good we weren't on the tandem. We just swung by the house so I could get a hit off my inhaler (sounds more fun than it is) before going to our next stop.
What kind of excitement do adults pursue after burgers and beer in Eugene, Oregon? That is such a good question. It's kind of like high school--if no one's having a party, options can be quite limited. Thank goodness for that crazy Rob. He made us go bowling.
I'll have to do this again, to asses whether I actually like bowling. Possibly I was in such a great mood that anything would have been fun (Could it have been my inhaler? I've been using it for years. It's never been fun before.). I'm still giggling. Maybe we should form a team. We could have a team name. How about The Snorting Wheezers? We will need bowling shirts with our names embroidered on them. I would want a special name for bowling. My bowling name is Louise- rhymes-with-wheeze.
The younger hooligan's soccer team is called The DRAGONBALLS. I'm still giggling about that, too.