Hair Of The Dog

My wife invited a few friends over yesterday. It started off as just five women - sort of a ladies happy hour. The plan was that they would have a couple of glasses of wine, nibble on some cheese and crackers, and then head home to fix dinner for their families. No big deal. I could putter around in my study for an hour or two until they left.

Remember that saying about "no battle plan survives contact with the enemy?" Well, there was no enemy here, but the plan died an early death just the same.

It started when one woman showed up with her husband. They had been out running errands and it took longer than expected, so he was going to drop her off and come back later to pick her up. As long as he was here, I invited him in for a quick one.

As often happens, one turned into two. Then two turned into three. At that point we figured it would be a good idea to call the other husbands and invite them over.

You can guess the rest.

Happy Hour turned into Good Time Friday Night. I vaguely remember the last guest leaving around midnight. The women were in pretty good shape. They must have more self-discipline than us men. Anyway, there are several abandoned pickups at our place this morning, because the men rode home with their wives. As I type this it's 10:30 Saturday morning and no one has showed up to claim them yet.

I blame it all on the lack of food. If you're going to drink for several hours you need more to munch on than grapes and carrot sticks.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go add more Kahlua to my coffee...