Monday night is Mexican restaurant night for the kids and me. I’m interested in gorging myself on chips and salsa (while having to refrain from the delectable black margaritas), and the kids are interested in standing in line to request balloon animals and face painting. If I allowed myself to have the margaritas I’d probably be right in line with the kids. One of the many reasons why I must resist. Another one is the stares of the other, and surely better, mothers as I am forced to walk home in a drunken stupor with two kids in tow. But at least my kids would look festive with their Power Ranger and rainbow faces.
And festive is just how I would describe the kids last night. They like to play stump the clown with their requests. Last night my son decided he wanted a balloon mouse with a Christmas wreath around his neck. This took a good 20 minutes to produce. Next, he asked the face painter for the Christmas mouse on one cheek and a sleeping mouse with a quilt on the other. This only took 35 minutes to slap that masterpiece up. When my daughter realized how long this was taking (and how much time this was cutting out of her cartoon-watching), she decided a simple wreath would be sufficient. By this time, I decided a margarita would have made a lot of sense. It would have helped me through the Christmas mouse extravaganza and been worn off by the time it was all over.
Of course with my luck the server would have felt sorry for me and given me the fish bowl margarita. I would have no self-control as I watched each piece of fur delicately painted on my son’s face. The beverage would be consumed within five minutes. I’d be in line requesting a skull and crossbones on one cheek and an Easter egg on the other. The next thing you know, my pants would be down and I’d wonder how things went so terribly wrong. Maybe Monday night should be Chinese night. You can never be too safe.
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The Fretful Mother's Blog 
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