Back before Alex was busy taking over our lives, we used to have Sunday Funday. This can be summed up in one word: Drunk. Sunday Funday would start with breakfast at one of our favorite places which always included a couple bloody marys. And that little hair of the dog would set us on our way to a Sunday filled with drinks, friends, fun, and zero productivity.
Obviously, that lack of responsibility is not really an option anymore. Lamesauce, I know. Sunday Funday has taken on a new meaning. It's now defined by parks and candy that makes your mouth different colors and ice cream and Target toy aisles.
Isn't funny how you can simultaneously miss your old life so much and love your new life so much? Kids, man.
Yep, I miss drinking.
ReplyDeleteThey're lucky they are so damn cute.
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