It used to be a dinner reservation. Now, it’s a bedtime. By the time Mommy feeds you squash, washes squash off the wall, and gets you to bed, she has exactly 23 minutes to eat whatever you didn’t in front of The Bachelorette before she passes out with her hair crusted in squash. Being up at 2am used to mean it was a good night. Now it’s a very, very bad night. It means Mommy will also be up at 3, 4, 5, and up for good at 6am. Those wee hours used to be for flirting with the bartender to keep the drinks flowing while sexting her back-up plan for a booty call. Now she spends that time praying you will go back to sleep while What’s App-ing her sleep-deprived mommy friends and cursing the “bullet-proof” No Cry Sleep Solution. Sometimes, when Mommy’s in line for her fourth Americano Misto of the day, she’ll overhear a twenty-something lament about being “soooo exhausted”. When Mommy was single, “exhaustion” referred to a state of ennui that came from being bored with skinny jeans and dating guys with ironic mustaches. Mommy misses that kind of tired.
DRINK: The After Eight. 1 oz crème de cacao, 1 oz crème de menthe. Add a splash of milk. Serve on the rocks. Enjoy after 8 p.m. but before 9 p.m. lest you turn into a sleep-deprived Gremlin the next day.