Wednesday, February 06, 2013


Last night D and I went to dinner. She was needing some mom time, I was needing some bread. I really needed to put myself into a coma after the craptastic day I had, but I settled for empty carbs.

When it came time to pay the bill, I had a small heart attack. Actually, it was just another crappy thing to add to my crappy day. See, during the day I had to take my ID out for the life exam lady and when I put my wallet away, I just threw it in the drawer on top of my purse. The stupid thing did not magically put itself away inside of my purse. Of course I forgot until I needed it. On the other end of town. After I had eaten my grilled chicken and D had her fill of shrimp pasta.

While images of washing dishes in shame flashed through my head, D calmly said, "Don't worry Mom, I can drive home. I have my ID." Because that is the first thing she thought of as a teenager who wants desperately to drive everywhere herself and only wishes she could do it alone. She wasn't thinking about doing dishes next to me.

Luckily, I use my debit card enough that I have the number memorized. When I tried to explain this to our waitress, she immediately called a manager over. As if I had grown horns and fangs since the last time she stopped by our table. Her reaction was reflected in her tip.

D did get to drive home. She came within an inch of hitting a camper, took the extra long way out of the parking lot, and nearly parked on top of the bikes in the garage, but didn't kill anyone. At least it was a good reminder to not forget my wallet again.


The Martini Chronicles. Design by Exotic Mommie. Illustraion By DaPino