Yeah, so, we went to a wedding all weekend long.
DH and her man, Charley, got married at City Hall on Friday, followed by a reception on Saturday. Do you realize what that meant? It meant two nights out for us … in a row. I know, right? It’s like we’re in our 20s!
My Mom, a serious contender for Best Mom Ever, basically moved in with us for the weekend to watch the Spawn so we could go to the wedding events. In order to really test her patience, The Boy threw up on her on Friday night, and on Saturday he fell off the couch and got a fat lip. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time the Spawn had a fat lip.
Unaware of any vomiting going on at home, mighty, mighty good man David and I went to City Hall on Friday. We were a little overdressed on BART.
After the ceremony, we went to Absinthe in Hayes Valley for dinner. Neither of us drank absinthe, which seems like a missed opportunity, but I did have a few glasses of wine. Of course, we are such party animals that we were still home by 10 p.m., just in time to watch the Giants lose (damn it).
On Saturday, we got dressed up again, and we shared an Uber with another couple to get to the Log Cabin in the Presidio. For the uninformed, an Uber is a car service that is a little more expensive than a cab; however, an Uber will actually show up when you call, the car is clean, and the driver doesn’t give you any of that “the machine is broken so I can’t take a credit card” bullshit. Also, since we’re not rich, or even slightly rolling in the dough, I hunted down a promo code for first-time riders to get a discount. I used the code on the way there, and David used the code on the way back. Yep, we’re so smart you wouldn’t know that we are product of the public school system and only graduated from state colleges.
We had a fabulous time on Saturday. The bride and groom looked so happy, and we had a great time catching up with friends (and completely abusing their generous open bar). And thanks to the open bar, I was able to get David on the dance floor. We danced some. Not too much — just a song or two or maybe three.
We got home after midnight. I climbed into bed and, man oh man, my right shoulder was so sore. That’s my recovered frozen shoulder — the one I did months and months of physically therapy to repair. Ugh. The next morning, it was still a little sore. I rolled over to tell David about it, and I noticed that he was holding his wrist; the wrist that had tendonitis a few months ago but was better because he wore a brace for a few months.
Seriously, a little bit of dancing had reawaken all our old injuries. Damn. We’re old.