“My son was invited to a fellow kindergartner’s birthday… our first invite living in a new area, where I know NO ONE. I was pretty nervous, okay? Caca in my pants nervous.
I bought a new outfit, waxed my eyebrows and even sprayed deodorant. I BECAME PRESENTABLE DAMMIT, and I was ready to make friends, ya know what I’m saying?
After 40 attempts at winged eyeliner, I arrived to the party looking a little like a lady of the night and Cleopatra. The birthday mom opens the door and I’m like, ‘Heyyyyy! I know you! We were pregnant at the same time!’ Thinking she was a mom that also recently had her baby that I met at childcare and had the same aged-gapped-children as me. ‘Oh really?! How old’s your baby?’ … ‘3 months,’ I replied.
‘Oh, mine’s 18 months,’ she responded.
She probably thought I was implying she looked like she just had a kid.
Ya jerk, Laura.
It got worse from there… I was like a slow moving sloth hovering over my child and pretending he needed me, when it was *I* that needed him. I even asked if he wanted to hold my hand while he played with his friends but he looked at me like, “Buzz off mum, you’re cramping my style.’
So I struck up a conversation with a dad, where I must have been so boring to talk to that he edged further and further away from me until he was about 30 feet away. I messaged my husband and said, ‘this is the worst, I have no one to talk to.’ I even had it all planned out that I would write a post about how hard birthdays can be…
But that was until the birthday mom messiah handed me a glass of liquor with a wink and like Jesus, turned my watery personality into wine, and I transformed into Priscilla, Queen of the 4th Birthday Party.
A metaphorical crown was planted on my head and I walked around the party like a majestic gazelle, waving like the queen to the fellow party go-ers. ‘Hello, yes… I am wearing purple eye shadow today… yes this IS a chocolate stain on my pants FROM TODAY.’
The magical drink found its way to my frontal lobe and impaired those inhibitions like a mother-in-law in the labor ward. ‘Don’t worry doctor, I’ll cut the cord!’
Suddenly, the dad from earlier? I knew what he did for a living, met his wife, their 3 children and know where they live, what their thoughts are about the Illuminati and which bachelor they prefer.
I was pissed off this one glass of wine, and my cares flew right out the window. I got so deep with one lady we spoke about our fantasies… hers was making love for 12 hours and mine was sleeping for 12 hours.
I swear I was having such a good time that when this little boy came up to me asking me if he could go to the toilet, I realized I was in fact at a child’s party, and this little boy was my son.
That glass of heavenly confidence boosting gold made my day. I now have two phone numbers and a date to a drunken night out with three ‘bad moms’ (I’m stay-at-home MILA KUNIS).
Say what you will about mom drinking culture, but it brings people together…”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Laura Mazza of Mum on the Run, where it originally appeared. Submit your story here, and subscribe to our best love stories here.
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