Sunday, July 30, 2006

Handling your Breakup, Day 4

Flee the city. Pack a bag, get into your cousin's Honda, and drive two hours south to your other cousin's house. Cousins cousins cousins are what you need right now. Family is good.

Arrive at said location, get jumped on by an almost six-year old cousin. You have this tradition where she hugs you as tightly as possible, and you pretend you're suffocating. Realize that the older she gets, the more she can actually choke you.

Greet your two-year old cousin with the electrified red hair, who is also your goddaughter. She's a little shy at first, but you've got the plan. "Who's the prettiest girl?" you ask her, to which she smiles cutely and says, "Me!"

Follow your older cousin and gracious hostess for this weekend into the garage for some girl time. Bless her soul for knowing exactly what you need, as she pulls cigarettes out of the freezer and hands you a vodka cooler. You smoke together, she lets you bitch, and ashes get emptied into a beer bottle.

Hike up your pants, pull a deck chair up to the pool and get lost your latest issue of In Style. Fawn over a pair of Christian Dior boots. Realize that the mothers around you are discussing savings for SUV's and college funds. Thank your lucky everything that you are single, fabulous, and contemplating Christian Dior boots.

Done with style, get out the new Martha Stewart Living. So you're a closeted Martha Stewart fan. Fuck off. Think how devastatingly sexy you'll look making Nectarine Shortcakes in an apron and Christian Dior boots.

Feel a tug on your arm and look down to see your goddaughter smiling at you. "Who's the prettiest girl?" you say, as she throws her hands up in the air and squeals, "ME!"

Cigarettes & hostess cousin places a two-litre glass of Rye & Coke in front of you. This is why your cousin is your hero. You down it, and realize there is way more rye than Coke. This is why your cousin is perfect.

Teeter up the deck stairs because that was some damn good rye. Trip, save yourself by grabbing onto the railing, hear your applause and then take a bow. That could've been a damn good fall, too.

Through your drunken haze, help your goddaughter open her birthday presents. Two is a very important age. Accept more applause for finding her that miniature Burberry outfit on sale. All hail the shopping diva. Watch another child make off with part of the gift. You are too tipsy to chase anyone.

Laugh your ass off watching the Comedy Network. Run upstairs to brush your teeth; get sidetracked by some muttering from your goddaughter's bedroom. It's midnight and she's still up when she shouldn't be.

Look into her crib and find her lying on her back, awake. Cutie pie. "Who's the prettiest girl?" you whisper. She touches your nose and whispers back, "You."

Little girls aren't supposed to be out of bed at this hour, but one hug won't hurt. Oh, baby love. Thank you.

3 comments:

Lance Morrison said...

OMG Thats the cutest thing ever...

Your rye-and-coke-drinkin'-cigarette-smellin'-drunk-ass- in an apron and Dior boots! How Marcia Cross of you.

Oh.... that the Goddaughter comment too. Yeah that was cute.

With Love, Fat Girl said...

With nectarine shortcakes. Don't leave out the nectarine shortcakes.

Oh and, that little devil is one of the flower girls. You get to do her hair.

Lance Morrison said...

Then you'll both be the prettiest girls.

Well.... Oli too, but as the bride, that's a given.