Don't Ever Let Him Bartend

Last night I had a project to work on and ended up bringing my laptop to bed with me. As soon as I finished the last sentence of copy, I was OUT - completely zonked and instantly asleep. All evening, Patrick hung out in the living room watching TV and doing whatever it is that boys do when they have the home to themselves.

I've just found out what that was.

Around 4:30am, my husband ungracefully crawled into bed, waking me up in the process. I decided to get up to use the washroom and when I did, Patrick weakly asked if I could get him a Rolaid. I got him one, he ate it, started snoring immediately and I knew my window for sleep was over. I decided to go make myself some tea and found this in the kitchen:



That would be a bottle of mezcal (it's like tequila), Starbucks Coffee Liqueur and the glass that once bound this monstrosity together. If he hasn't yet named his cocktail, I might suggest "The-Very-Bad-Idea-tini"

Rolaids, indeed.

I should probably go to the liquor store and get some real booze before he starts mixing the Triple Sec with Listerine.