It's Good to Drink and Blog So Other People Know What You're Really Like

So, it's Game Day again. Which means I'll get a few text messages from my siblings reading "Game!" In case you don't know, us Gamecocks like to yell "Game!" at each other. The only proper response is "Cocks!" If you ever get a text message that says "Game!", you'll know how to respond.

A true Gamecock cannot resist the call. I was in Atlanta one weekend with my sister. It was a game weekend and, as I was driving away from the chichi little café where we had brunch, I yelled to her on the sidewalk. "Game!" Much to the surprise of the sophisticated Atlantaians still eating outside, she screamed her response, "COCKS! WHOOOOOOOOOOOO!" I also like to call out of town Gamecocks on their cell phones, just so I can get them to yell "Cocks!" on a bus or street corner.

I didn't go to tonight's game because O mentioned a week ago that he really wanted to go to the game against S.C. State. Since I never have a clue who they're playing, it seemed only fair that I let him go with his Dad. I stayed home, suffering like mad, with the two younger monkeys. Eh. If you know me, you know I wasn't suffering. I went to Yoga while the lovely neighbor girl kept them. Then I took Baby J and the X-Man to a Japanese restaurant, because the X-man wanted squid salad. And I wanted sashimi and a nice glass of dry white wine. Just so you feel a tiny bit sorry for me, please know that Baby J wasn't interested in the fried tofu I got for him, the toy provided by the restaurant staff, my cell phone or the dude with the mohawk at the next table, so I had to let him crawl around on the floor, while I tried to follow a conversation with the X-Man.

I was asking him what he liked best, out of all the food he ordered. He said, "Actually, I have to say, everything on my plate: the Dragon roll, the eel, the California roll, the ginger, the crab...well, everything but the Wasabi. On AFV, that's America's Funniest Home Videos, the guy ate all of the Wasabi and he was like [insert insane gagging six year old face here]. But I didn't see it. It was on YouTube. You can watch it on YouTube, where they have the laughing babies. For my lunch, at school, I want the rest of Baby J's fried tofu, like the piece that I ate a little bit of, and some eel and California rolls and Dragon rolls and especially ginger, because I looooooove ginger."

Around the time I realized Baby J was using my purse as a doggie bag for his used tofu, a couple I know from the neighborhood walked in. They were on a date. With other grownups. I don't know them that well, so I was trying to act sort of like I think normal people act. I thought that if I didn't look at the floor, they might not notice Baby J. I thought I could portray myself as a sophisticated, together-type mom of three. Do you think it worked? I do not.

Drinking and driving is so totally not cool, so I waited until I got home to have another glass of wine, some leftover sparkling we had in the fridge. And, because I'm such a stellar mom, I waited until the boys went to bed to start in on the rest of the bottle. I had to call my friend J in Mississippi so I wouldn't be drinking alone. Classy, huh? She had to go, because her son had just gotten home from the longest play date ever, so here I am. And here are the text messages between me and my dear husband, who's still at the game. Commentary in brackets. Did you really think I could do this without commentary? I don't even brush my teeth without commentary.:

Me: score? of game and of fun.

Him: Game: 17-3 us. Fun: 24-0 us.

Me: Aw.

Him: sC state has a great band & cheerleaders [This is because he knows that's all I care about. I'm the only person who stays in my seat for half time. And I love marching bands. Drumline is one of my favorite movies and I have no recollection of the plot.]

Moi: I wish I was there just for the band and cheerleaders. Is the flag dude in the house? [At the first game, I was pleasantly surprised to see that one of the Flag chicks at half time was a dude, mostly because it gave A and me a chance to crack ourselves up. And my dear husband indulged me by discussing it for at least four minutes.]

Lui: No flag dude sighted yet. How's X Man?

Moi: So...it's not half time? [the Flag...um.."People" don't show themselves until halftime.] Y'all seen anyone we know yet?

Lui: Flag Dude!!!??? Where are u?!?!?!!!!??

Lui: He's MIA

Lui: Never mind. He's on the opposite side!! [I know my husband is cool, because he's willing to devote this many texts to the flag dude.]

Moi: YESSSSSS!!! Flag DUDE!!!

Lui: 2d half just started. We seen D & A, Uncle J, Aunt K, Cousin M, Cousin W, Uncle D, The P's, back o "John's*" head (he's with daughter) [All those Aunts, Uncles, and cousins are mine. I have tons and they love them some football. My dad and brother were there too. My husband's family is too fancy European for our American style football. By the way, A doesn't really say "we seen." He was being funny.]

Lui: Flag dude yes. Pregnant looking co-eds yes. [Ladies, empire waist is not for everyone.] Yoga turd no. [This is a guy, whose nickname I cannot explain here, who was at a game and totally, maniacally into it, in spite of his Yogic leanings. I hope he never reads this, because he's really rather nice.]

Moi: No more wife? [Referring back to "John" who was at the previous game with his wife, who we heard had left him. This is an interesting situation and I would like to know more. Plain and simple, I'm nosy. He does have good seats, so maybe she's rethinking her actions. I know I would. But I wouldn't cheat on my husband in the first place; I'm too lazy and he's awesome, so what would be the point? I guess some people's husbands are not awesome.]

Lui: Nope

Moi: i m bored and kind of drunk. was talking to J [friend who recently moved to Mississippi] on phone, so not drinking alone.

Lui: Stuck in traffic. Be home in 2 hours [This is also a joke.]

Moi: Eff! [Joke. Again. Dwight said it on the Office and it's funny.]

And now he's home.

Namasté, y'all!

*Some names have been changed, because...just because.