Because a pitcher of margaritas is socially unacceptable at 9 am

It has not been the best of days. Having a teenager, let alone one with special needs, can sometimes be VERY trying.

The morning started off kinda wonky this morning when I woke up at 5:30 (my alarm usually goes off at 5:45 Mon-Fri) and I couldn’t go back to sleep. So thanks, stupid internal alarm clock.

Then my son decided to be kind of a poop and because making a pitcher of margaritas and getting day drunk is kind of unacceptable at 9 a.m., I drove to HobbyLobby instead to buy yarn. Because buying yarn at 9 a.m. is something you CAN do that’s totally socially acceptable.

I decided to go to McDonald’s to get a drink and our McDonald’s has been remodeled recently. I haven’t been in there since they changed it but now you have to order off a big IPad instead of talking to a person. It took me 4 tries to figure out how to order one stupid drink. I was paying with cash and it said “Please go to the register if you’re paying with cash.” So I went to the register. The poor girl working there was clearly new.

NewGirl: Uh…..can I um..HELP you?

Me: Yes. I ordered a drink and it said to come to the register.

NG: You paid with a card?

Me: No…I’m paying with cash. That’s why I’m HERE.

NG: You’re supposed to pay with a card.

She looked terrified and I was trying not to be frustrated with her.

Me: No…I’m paying with cash. It said to go to the register, so here I am.

NG: Where’s…um..your receipt?

Me: I didn’t get one.

Turns out I did, but I didn’t KNOW I’d gotten one because I’ve never ordered my drinks on an IPad before. So I paid for my drink and she stared at me. I moved aside because there was a guy behind me and I thought I had to wait or…something…for them to bring me my drink. Which seemed weird, but I was like, “Well OK. I guess you have to wait instead of just doing it yourself now or something?”

Guy who was behind me launches into a 10 minute order that includes everything but the kitchen sink. I begin to realize that my drink is not coming.

Me: Excuse me, sir.’am? All I ordered was a drink. Can I have my cup please?

NW (looking like a scared deer in the headlights): OH! RIGHT! I am SO sorry!

She handed me my cup, I got my drink and went back out to the car to crochet my frustrations away.

And everything was fine until the mail came. My son took it upon himself to open my husband’s mail, after I told him not to do it.

So now he’s in his room (Son, not the Hubs. Hubs is still at work), grounded until dinner time.

“But I’ll be BOOOOORED!” Too bad, sugarcakes. You don’t get to play on our school computer when you are grounded, mister. You have 84,000 books, Matchbox cars, stuffies and who knows what else in there. Entertain yourself with that big ol’ imagination of yours.

Somebody pass me a bottle of Margaritaville margarita mix. I’ve already go the tequila. Is 2:30 too early to start drinking?

2 thoughts on “Because a pitcher of margaritas is socially unacceptable at 9 am

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