Show Me Your ....

I swear the dead twig Christmas tree is coming down tomorrow. Although it is awfully cute that Holden yells out "Christmas!" every time he walks past the tree.



I also have a fun plan to get my butt out of the house and have some fun.

The wonderfully lovely and funny Queen of the Mayhem suggested that I bring the family down for Mardi Gras, Baton Rouge style. The husband isn't really down with driving 16 hours for a 2 day stay, so I've convinced him that I need to fly down for some cocktail mental health time. I'm going to bring Big H with me courtesy of United Airlines and bonus miles. (And United, if you screw me again, we're done. Just so we're clear.)

Now, the poor Queen is probably thinking, "Oh, shit! What have I done?" Well, Queeny, baby. That's what happens when you tempt Lawyer Mama with a good time when she desperately needs one. Now you can't back out. {Insert evil laughter here.}

So, if anyone happens to be in the New Orleans or Baton Rouge area on the weekend before Mardi Grad, let me know if you'd like to get together. Or if, say, some bloggers that I adore wanted to drag their butts over from Houston, I wouldn't be opposed. Nope. Not. at. all.

It looks like I'll be coming in to New Orleans mid day on Thursday, January 31st and hopefully crash with some family. (I suppose I should call and ask before I just show up with toddler in tow.) I'll spend the weekend with the Queen and the Mayhem in Baton Rouge and then head back to New Orleans until Tuesday, when I will reluctantly depart.

Yes, I will be flying out on Mardi Gras day. Bummer. But hey, it's a free flight. I can't complain.

I need to start practicing. "Show me your.... amygdalae!" That'll stop them in their tracks. (Yes, I am a nerd.)