Vodka: the new Early Grey

It's official. I have found a drink that soothes me, unbeknownst to me is the only set-back, more than a cup of sugary hot tea.

Vodka.

We've danced before, the V and I. But I've never properly acknowledged its calming properties before last night. We had friends over and they brought their daughters (Miss 2.5 and Miss 4-going-on-73. No, that's not a typo). Wow, what a noisy bunch. I'd never quite noticed before. Possibly because we've never done it before. At least, not past 8 o'clock at night.

Still, that's approximately what time they arrived. I thought we were going to lose the LGBB - all afternoon I had been promising her a "party", for it was the only way I could explain the little get-together we were going to have with our closest friends ("It's called a soirée, Lolly, it's where you mingle and sit around the kitchen bench and eat little finger foods. You'll like it"). For good measure and to tide her over, I asked Daddy to help by blowing up some balloons. So he blew up.... three. WHO THE HELL ONLY BLOWS UP THREE BALLOONS? But that's another bone of contention not needing to be gone into here and now.

They arrived. The LGBB snapped out of her growing mood (at feeling like she was being told lies, all lies, about this party business). It was noisy. It was messy. Very messy. The girls played and played and played like there was no tomorrow. Except, I have discovered (at 6:30 this morning), ho ho there most certainly IS a tomorrow. And it's not one to factor in late-to-bed, late-to-rise laws, even if it did go to bed at 10pm (three hours past usual bedtime). Nor is it particularly sympathetic to its mother, who went to bed at 1am with three vodkas and a wine under her belt. Which was cast on the floor without a care in the world. A mere 5 1/2 hours before duty called. But did I mind? No. Because for one second there last night, I had a blast. Without having to leave my front door.

p.s. I love vodka. Especially vodka on special.