Its Not My Fault I Tell You

Yesterday my friends I was a victim of circumstances not my own. Saturday after a fine run/swim brick I was feeling a bit under the weather and my throat started to get very sore. I still planned on an early rise for my bike ride Sunday and went to bed early to get plenty of rest. Did I mention that Mistress has a friend in town?

I am awoken to sounds of obscene merriment downstairs around 11 pm.and upon investigation Mistress and friend have polished off a bottle of champagne and 5th of Kettle One Vodka. Now that's a lot of alcohol, no mater how long it took to drink, but each of them rarely drinks to excess throughout the year so they felt compelled to act like college girls and get all goofy. Oh goodness were they drunk. At 0200 Mighty Mo is crying because he is sick, I still have my sore throat and I have no idea were the girls are. I look at the window to check the pool, okay good no floaters. Twenty minutes calming the Mo and I go and find Mistress passed out on the couch and coax her upstairs.

Still planning on my ride I get up a 0430 instead of 0530 and decide to cut the ride short, in case Mo is up early and Mistress is not. The insipid door chime wakes Mighty Mo and he starts crying, Mistress is in no condition to rise and care for him so, I the struggling age grouper comfort my son dressed in my cycling shorts and jersey until he is okay.

Still believing I can get in a ride later that morning, Mistress awakens in a fairly good state but informs me she has dog training and then pedicures and then dinner set up with friend before dropping her off at the conference she is in town for. Guh, Guh and Doh!

So the Mighty Mo feeling better and me really not, spent the day on the couch each in his own state of unrest. I suppose I am due this Sunday confinement for being gone the last three weekends and Mistress needs to let off some steam but damn if that bike ride won't eat me for the rest of this week.