This weekend was rather hectic and strange. It culminated in highly infections materials being spread over the entire house. But I get ahead of myself.

Matilda stayed home on Friday because she had no school. Naturally, it was difficult getting anything done. Working at home by yourself is difficult enough. Working at home with a gaggle of insane children running up and down the stairs is nearly impossible.

If you think you can to it easily, I’ll be happy to send a group of these kids over to your office one day while you’re trying to get the Smegma contract out the door. Let’s just see how well you do. Would you be Dr. Spock or Mr. Hyde? I just wonder.

Saturday we had a wedding of one of my childhood friends. I always dread weddings. First of all because I generally don’t like the food. Secondly I have to wear a suit and I’m not very good at that. Thirdly it’s usually required that I dance. I’m not a very strong dancer. In fact, there’s few counties left in the state that actually allow me to dance.

Luckily the wedding was so far away from civilization that no one could possibly notice that I suck. Whew.

We made some fun Wedding Friends whom we chatted with, conspired with and got seriously inebriated with. Yes, inebriated. I had four beers before dinner. I was done drinking before the first course arrived. Then one of my tablemates passed around shots of whiskey he had horked from the bar. I declined, saying I was hoping to stay sober in order to drive my wife home. They played the Irish card. I couldn’t disappoint my lineage so I tanked it.

By the time I got the feeling in my face back, they were passing around another load. I sipped it and passed it along to a good friend of mine who looked like he was ready for the evening to end. He downed it and couldn’t feel his face either. Best I can figure our entire table had numb faces. We probably all looked like a bunch of dental patients who really enjoyed Novocain. Which I don’t, by the way.

Later, as I was enjoying my dessert, I discovered that one of my new wedding friends had spiked my coffee with a liberal amount of said whiskey (I must add that this wasn’t typical wedding whiskey that comes in a familiar looking bottle with a name like “Mack Laniels” or “Ack Dandiels.” No, this was good stuff. Really good stuff. $60 a bottle good. My face was numb, but it was numb in a pretentious sort of way.)

It was now nine o’clock and I had treacherous, rain-slicked roads to drive. While I wasn’t exactly drunk, I was happy. And that pissed me off because that meant I was having fun at a wedding. Sorry Jim. But I had to get sober in order to drive home. Since I was only buzzed, it wouldn’t take long.

However, what happened in the intervening time wasn’t my fault. Let’s just say it involved dancing and “Let’s Get It On.”

I enjoyed the time with our new wedding friends. I’m not sure if we’ll ever hang out with them again. It would be rather fun, as they were enjoyable company. And, despite the fact that my suit was too big and I looked like my tie was strangling me, they appeared to think we were cool.

Or, more appropriately, I think they thought my wife was cool. And married to a weird, fat guy who had a numb face.