Why I Drink

Why I drink

In high school and college I drank because that’s what you’re supposed to do on a Thursday, Friday or Saturday night. And sometimes Wednesday. Or Tuesday. Maybe Monday.  Anyway, everyone else was, it was a blast to get drunk and puke in a random parking lot.  Or a strangers bathroom floor.

Then that kind of wore off.  I would still drink socially, but only a couple glasses of wine.  I drank because it gave me a reason to let go and giggle with the girls, enjoy that feeling of slightly floating.  I didn’t have any desire to reproduce the glory days of college.  At least not on a nightly basis.

As time went by I got married and had children.  Right there are three reasons I drink.  I love my children. They are smart, loving, fun to be around.  But they talk. A lot. Non. Stop.  And they don’t take “uh-huh” for an answer.  In fact, one of my son’s first sentences was “no say ‘uh-huh’ mommy!”

The husband doesn’t talk much. Unless it’s telling the kids what do to and how to do it. And when. Not why. My daughter usually complies.  Every once in a while we have a whopper of a tantrum, but not that often.  My son, however, is much more like his father.  He fights his dad every step of the way.  It’s a constant power struggle.  Husband tells Son to do something. Son says he will after he does something else.  I don’t freaking care which one Son does first, but Husband insists Son does one before the other. And then they argue and fight and Son is left in tears with me mopping up the mess.

I won’t step in to assist the husband because I don’t think he’s in the right. But if I step in to help the son, I’m invalidating the husband’s authority.

So I drink. And deal with the husband telling me that’s why I can’t lose weight. 

So I think I’ll have another drink.