Don't you dare ask me why.

Why I drink I mean. Seriously. What a flippin' day.

So I finally get off my ass, shower, and head out to the car to start my ridiculous errand run afternoon. What do I discover upon getting into the car? A big splatter of bird shit right in my line of vision on my windshield. I should've just gotten out then and walked back into the house. I should've taken it as a sign from god that I would have a shitty day and should just give up. But noooo.... the fighter in me decided to put on my big girl panties and charge on through. Some highlights...

** I stop at the dollar store to grab some cheap crap to shove into cheap goody bags for the birthday party this weekend. Because if there's one thing that other mother's like, it's when their kids get cheap crap in goody bags at a party where they just overloaded on sugar.

** Pay for my loot and tell the lovely cashier (who has just given the evil eye to some rude Chinese dude that came in) that I parked across the street and that I'll leave one or two bags there while I run the five 2-bottles of soda over and the 24-pack of that disgusted colored juice in plastic barrel-shaped containers that kids seem to dig.

** She tells me that's fine, OR I can walk the cart across the street and bring it back over if I "think I can get across without getting hit by a car."

** Leave the store (with the cart), don't realize how uneven the sidewalks are, and somehow manage to upend the cart, sending bags of balloons, 2-liter bottles of soda, and 10 super bouncy balls flying all over the sidewalks of the busiest street in town.

** Throw the loot into the trunk of my car as quickly as possible and run the cart back across the street.

** Find previously mentioned cashier outside on a smoke break and she proceeds to start yakking my ear off about the rude Chinese guy that's apparently a regular customer (and a real dick), as well as the rude Mexican guy who came in yelling the F word until she asked him what the hell his problem was, and then he was nice to her. Oh... and the Mexican dude's wife was the most "scraggly-assed chick she'd ever seen." I didn't know this woman. At all.

** I told her to have a nice day and left.

** Went to WalMart for more shitty fun party stuff.

** Purchased the most disturbing looking pinata I've ever laid eyes on. Seriously. The girls wanted Dora. What they're getting is Strung Out Dora on Crack. No kidding. I will permanently scar all children that attend this party if I bring this thing out. Fucking creepy.

** Take the crap fun party stuff to the car and put the Crackhead Dora pinata in the front passenger seat, hoping to make anyone driving near or past me think that I have a demon-possessed toddler strapped in the car with me.

** Continued on to the grocery store for edible party shit .

** Had to keep a running tally on a calculator because I was paying in cash. Pain...in...the...ass...

** Also was required (as per Steve's orders) to read every flippin' box/bag/package because he's on this ridiculous organic/all natural foods kick. Seriously dude. When you're coming home telling me we're going to start eating bee pollen everyday for energy, you need to seek professional help.

** Got home and called Steve to see if he wanted beef tacos or chicken tacos tonight.

** Was told beef because "It'll be the last time we eat red meat." Um... excuse me? Come again. Because mama's gonna eat her motha fuckin' steak whether daddy-o likes it or not.

** Was then told that we're not even going to eat chicken, and instead, we'll eat just things like cabbage and spinach.

** Laughed hysterically, said, "Fuck you, you freak!", hung up, and proceeded to eat a big hunk of Rocky Road cake for lunch. Cabbage and spinach, my ass. Take that you damn all-natural, tree huggin', steak hatin' loser.

And then the rest of the night is a blur. I picked up the girls at my mom's hairdresser... carried a kicking and screaming Hannah to the car and had to yell at both of them ALL the way home for teasing, crying, fighting, and kicking... got home and took them outside in an attempt to wear them out... made conversation with a friend of ours who was dropping off some used Dora decorations... didn't care that at 8:30, the girls were filthy and still running around outside while Steve, the friend, and I hung out in the kitchen drinking beer and chatting... dragged them inside at what is normally bedtime to just start giving them a bath... sat them in front of the TV and started dinner (at 9:00) since my stomach was eating itself... ate... put children to bed... cracked open another beer... sat down to post this.

Now. I triple dog dare you to ask me why I drink...