Hey y'all! I'm practicing my accent because...we have a house!! The offer has been accepted and we close in November! I'm so unbelievably relieved. It would've really sucked to move in January and have no house. We actually flew down this weekend to do a walk through, sign the papers and start the list of stuff that needs to be done, which is why I've been ignoring my blog. And you thought I was just being lazy.
Chris and I left Saturday and it was really cool because we've never flown anywhere without the kids. It was really nice to not have to be paranoid in the airport, looking around frantically for your children who can't seem to grasp what stay right next to me means. Try playing that game in LaGuardia. Super fun. Anyway, it was a pretty big plane, 3 seats on each side. I took the window seat, Chris in the middle and someone else in the aisle seat. On the first flight, that someone else was a very, VERY drunk man. He reeked of liquor. During the takeoff he kept taking his shoes off and playing with his feet, which also smelled. Then as soon as we were in the air, the guy reached in his bag and pulled out a fifth of vodka. I can't even get a Diet Coke through security and this guy has a fifth? Whatever. Maybe he bought it in the airport, which would be even worse because it was almost empty. So anyway, this dude kept getting up and stumbling down the aisle to the bathroom, where the poor stewardesses were like, Sir? Sir, we need you to take your seat. Then he'd stagger back to his seat, drool on Chris a little bit and drink some more. Right before we landed, he wiped the drool off his chin and PULLED OUT HIS TEETH. For real. Then he fell back asleep. Chris was like, next time I'm NOT sitting in the middle. I hate you. I found the whole thing hilarious until we were actually in the terminal. Chris and I were standing in front of one of those big maps looking for the best place to eat, and the guy walks buy and grabs my ass. I was like, that drunk guy just grabbed my ass! Chris says, yeah, try sitting next to him for an hour and half. Sucks doesn't it. Fair enough I suppose.
So after our whole weekend extravaganza, Chris and I were looking forward to going home, sleeping in our own bed, seeing the kids, all that good stuff. Just wanted a nice, restful flight back. I was really tired and wanted to take a nap on the plane, which was a great plan until the big dumb animal sitting next to me spilled Diet Coke all over my leg. He didn't do it once, but twice. Oh and that big dumb animal? Yeah, that was Chris. At first I was really mad because my leg was really cold and I was getting a little travel weary. I was like, what the hell? Would you pay attention to what you're doing? He's like, I'm sorry, I hit it with my arm. I didn't mean to. So I said, well are you going to do anything about it? He's like, what do you want me do? Now all I really meant was that I wanted him to get some napkins so I could mop up the puddle of Diet Coke in my lap, but because I'm a total smartass and kind of a bitch, I said, you want to make it right, why don't pour the rest of that on yourself. And you know what that fool did? He picked up his Diet Coke and dumped it in his lap. He was like, now we can be wet and miserable together. I was like, aww, you're the best travel buddy ever.
So even though we had to brave the crowded seats, drunks and laps full of Diet Coke, we had an awesome weekend. And did I mention we have a house? Hell yeah, y'all.
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