TGIF

Remember the old times- when the week's end would come and 5 o'clock would roll around? The sensation of letting go and tossing the weight the last five day's worth of responsibility and daily grind off of your tired, weary shoulders welcoming you to the weekend. Yeah- kiss that good-buy. Here's the thing, babies do not give you time off. For some reason, they do not realize that Friday nights are for celebratory dinners chased with a cold beer. They do not comprehend that Saturday mornings are for sleeping in followed by leisurely breakfasts of pancakes and coffee, WHILE you look at the paper. But somehow, you believe you can still retain portions of your old life- a baby cannot present that much of a barrier, right?

Cut to scene at local bar and grill:

Carry baby and all of needed gear to table. Try to place beer order while waitress oohs and ahhs over baby and you try to attach clip-on high chair to table. Feed baby while waiting for food order- baby eats much better and faster than you anticipated so you occupy him with Goldfish crackers. Wait, I haven't touched my beer yet. Where is our food anyway, we are wasting our window of opportunity! Scarf down chicken sandwich and realize beer has gotten warm. Baby starts to fuss- he can have buffalo chips can't he? Uh, oh- he is passed point of no return, time to pack it up. Still have half a beer- guzzle it down (it was $5.50 after all). Head home to prepare for bedtime routine....

THANK GOD IT'S FRIDAY!