Things got a little rowdy in the house last night — many kids, much drinking, at least one dog, a wrestling match, bass rattling window panes — thankfully only until about midnight when the clan departed for another party or bar.
Then 4 a.m. — CRASH! right by my head, from the bedroom on the other side of the wall,
Fuck, one boy slurs. What happened? a girl asks. I don’t know, another girl replies. You okay, a second boy slurs. Fell outta the fuckin’ bed, the first boy slurs. Girls giggle. Fell outta the fuckin’ bed, first boy repeats. I can almost see him lying there rubbing his head. And then I hear it and have to cover my mouth with my hand so I don’t bust out laughing (cuz if I can hear them, they can hear me) Is it in my head? Is it the girls? I dunno.
There were four in the bed and the little one said, Move over, Move over . . .
Mood: sleep deprived
Drinking: coffee still . . . but the Banrock moon is on the rise
Listening To: Enya, Only Time
Hair: thinking about lightening up a bit