We go to Bali in just over two weeks and I can’t freakin’ wait. I know people love the idea of the culture and shared family experiences blah blah blah… but to me, it’s knowing that a merciless hangover can be negated with air-conditioning and a Kids Club.
Yup, I said it. For twelve nights I don’t have to think after every 5th drink “ooooh, this could hurt tomorrow, maybe I should stop” no sirrreeeeeeee Bob, I’m on it and naff the consequences.
I know I may sound like a chronic alcoholic, but think about it… without kids, a hangover was just something you felt when you bothered to lift your head off the pillow. You could drive (or convince your flatmate) to Macca’s for a bacon and egg McMuffin and three hash browns before collapsing back on the couch to watch a Friends marathon. After Friends – episode 10 – and a nap, you could have a shower, blow dry your hair, think you look pretty good and start drinking again. Yup…life was good.
Now with kids, a hangover is a fire breathing whore from hell. Your stomach does things it shouldn’t and your bum makes noises that would make your grandad proud. You wake up with dribble and a five-year old staring at your mostly make-up free face. Your head kills, your tongue is wearing a fur coat, you may or may not have abused your husband at 2am for trying to swing a leg and all three kids want to do something outside in the bright sun before 7am. Screw you AFL/Gymnastics and why the hell are you even letting your kids participate in weekend activities anyway?
Every time (and I mean every-freaking-time) I drink to excess I swear to the Lord above and the Devil below that I won’t do it again. But then I remember that hangovers are like giving birth, you swear to God while you’re pushing that you’ll never do it again and then 18 months later you’re right back there with your legs up swearing like a drunk sailor at the man that impregnated you
Bring on Bali and its crap cocktails, pool bars, air-conditioning and Kids Club.
15 more sleeps and counting