bachelor

so butch left today for a bachelor party in atlantic city. i wouldn't be concerned, but the last couple of times he's gone away overnight...there have been tales to tell the next day. for instance, about 2 years ago he went to harrisburg to meet some of our friends for a renaissance fair. the day before he left, he had yet another dentist issue so he was hopped up on vicodin. he called me about 3 hours after he left and said that he was pulled over by a cop with a gaggle of monkeys...i mean guys...in his car because he drove the wrong way up a one way street. but, he said, "no big deal! i didn't get a ticket!" (um...or die??) apparently the guy hyped up on vicodin was a much better candidate for 'driver' than the rest of them. i didn't hear much the rest of the day...nor did i care to. the next afternoon, he came stumbling through the front door looking really rough and...he was carrying a large (very large) sword. (yes, a sword. see picture...you almost have to, to understand how big it is.)

taken last night. he insisted on being shirtless.

i said, "what is with the sword?" he said (super excited), "isn't it cool!? it's like one from the olden days!" i rolled my eyes, making no attempt to share his enthusiasm, "isn't that kinda dangerous to have that laying around the house?" he looked at me and said, "um, noooo trish, it's not...it's not even BATTLE READY!" i exclaimed, "ohhhhh oooookay....not battle ready? perfectly acceptable to have in the house then..." (wtf...and by not battle ready, he meant not sharpened.) so later that day, i check our bank account and see that his little sword purchase is on our joint account. the sword was ninety dollars. not nine...ninety. he also didn't realize that our first mortgage payment (ever) was coming out of that large sum that was in there...and we bounced our very first mortgage check. i had to call the bank and explain that my husband had bought a sword (but don't worry, it's not battle ready) and he didn't realize the check hadn't come out yet. that was a fun conversation. also, it showed up as "sword" on our online banking statement. (pulled over, a sword, and a bounced mortgage check...exhibit A)

last summer, he went to atlantic city for my brother's bachelor party. ella wasn't feeling great before he left, but it wasn't the bubonic plague or anything so i thought i could handle it. we didn't know if she was teething, or had a cold...she just wasn't herself. (sick kids are the worst.) needless to say, she did get progressively worse throughout the day and i decided to take her temperature around 8pm before putting her to bed. her temperature was 105.6. (yeah, i know-scary high...i was shitting my pants.) i called the emergent care place to see what i should do...obviously, this was not "normal" and something was wrong. they said to bring her in immediately. i called my uncle who lives right around the corner to meet me there. i get there and they whisk me in, strip her down, and apply cold compresses to her body. i'm telling you all this to let you know what frame of mind i was in. here i was, a new mom...first super high fever, emergent care, and the (male) nurse is also telling me to 'not worry' if she has a seizure. (um, yeah...i'm pretty sure you are going to hear screams if that happens pal...so back off.)

my aunt and uncle showed up and came in the room. they asked if i had called butch. (oh, yeah. him. the father. whoops.) i didn't want to call him if he was highly intoxicated because i didn't want him to hop in the car and high tail it home in a panic. so i texted. i texted, "hey, how are you?" (just to get a feel for what his frame of mind was...) about 25 minutes passes and i hear my phone beep. i go over, pick it up and it says..."AT ROULETTE!! WHAT UP??" i turned the phone around so my uncle could read it and he went into hysterics. here i am, with this sick baby (panic attack city) and he's "at roulette" and asking me "what up." if i would've texted him "what was up" he wouldn't have liked my response. (my middle finger, jerkoff, that's what's up.) i wrote back nothing instead. the next morning, i called him and didn't get an answer...so then i called my brother. my brother was like..."um....yeah....he's sorta....missing...." 'WHAT?! SORTA MISSING!? WHERE THE HELL IS HE!?' he was like...ummm...i don't know. when i finally got in touch with butch, he said he woke up on the couch in the hotel room, found some chips in his pocket and decided to "try his luck" the next morning at the roulette table. well good thing you tried your luck there, because your luck has run out at this house pal. (105.6 fever = at roulette, what up?...exhibit B)

so tomorrow, i am expecting nothing less than a tale to be told after his trip. i always worry when a bunch of our guy friends get together for a little outing...it's the equivalent of opening the monkey cage at the zoo and saying...be freeeee!!!!!! (the movie 'the hangover' is really not that farfetched...) i'll be sure to keep y'all posted upon his return. however, he should've thought twice about that sword purchase...it may just come in handy tomorrow night. (what up lorena bobbitt?...what up.)