Grounded at 35

So I'm grounded for two weeks. Before I go any farther I should probably add that I am 35 years old and was grounded by a 19 year old.

Now it's not a total grounding, mind you, but I'm grounded from a person.

Which would be C, who just got back from his long-distance booty call himself.

2006 isn't exactly starting off all that well. I did my stupid long distance booty call, and I was having some house issues.

Issues like my door had this big space underneath it. C promised to install a new one when he got back. Now I like to think of myself as a real independent type chick. I pay my own bills. Hell, I change the oil in my truck.

There is just something about household repairs and spiders/snakes that make me long momentarily for the 1950's. Momentarily, mind you, and then I call people like my friend C to come take care of it.

So C comes over and it turns out that the floor has ummm rotted a bit because water got under the door. He starts to go under the house in my crawl space only to find out that my sump pump has stopped working and there is about a foot of water down there because I don't ever look down there because of the aforementioned spider/snake issues I have.

Fuck. This whole time we were watching a bunch of South Park reruns, and the phrase "You've been Ef'd in the A" was said in one of them.

So for the rest of the day I kept hearing about how I'd been Ef'd in the A. C decides to just replace the door, and come back the next day and pump out the crawl and fix the floor.

That is until my cat Oliver decides to do a swan dive down the trap door and into the crawl space.

So my 45 pound cat is screaming, I'm about to cry, and C being the good guy that he is goes in after the cat. Oliver doesn't exactly appreciate men, so he won't go to him, causing C to wade around the crawl until he could catch him.

C got Ef'd in the A.

Since he's already covered in gunky water and what we think might possibly be cat pee he goes ahead and fixes the floor also. So I have a bright shiny new door, no fear of falling though my ceramic tile foyer, and one traumatized cat that smells like ass.

Being the Prince that he is C refuses any kind of money from me and makes plans to come back the next day to pump out the crawl and put in a new sump pump.

I just can't have this, so I tell him I'm taking him out at least.

The 19 year old niece hears this and responds with an exuberant "HELL NO." You see, C and I tend to get into a bit of trouble when we are together. Last week when we went out the niece called at like 11 to see when I was coming home. "We're paying the tab now," I told her. We did too. The only problem was we started another one and I didn't turn up at home until about 3.

Hey, we were both having issues and worried about our respective ex's/booty calls. C didn't drink that much because he was driving, and I really didn't drink a lot, but we still seem to have a real hard time coming home when we are together.

So niece decides we need a babysitter because of the evil influence we seem to have on each other. After this day we both had she said we could probably use a driver, and that she'll drive us to where we want to go and she'll come pick us up when we want to come home.

Niece was about to get Ef'd in the A. She so should have known better then to give us free reign with alcohol.

Now I'm not a big drinker. I've never been especially good at it, and I don't think C is either. C was confused about his ex and his new booty call, had to go into a nasty, water filled crawl space, and worked his ass off all day.

We were bound to be bad, even if we weren't psychic soul mates from a parallel universe that cause each other to do Very. Bad. Things.

So we go to Hooters for all you can eat wings, get some pitchers of beer, and even buy the niece dinner since she has been so kind to drive us. We see C's sis-in-law, one of my best friends, and she bitches about us both being off work this week and she has to work. Pay attention now, because we will get back to this part, unfortunately.

Then we decide we want to go out. She drops us off at a local pub, one of those non-meat market types where you can just relax and hang out.

"Want a Jager Bomb?" he asks me.

You see, here is where it all goes terribly awry.

Let me just say this. Whoever invented Jager Bombs is the Anti-Christ. Fuck terrorists, the U.S. of A. needed to go after this sadistic bastard that decided an energy drink mixed with hard liquor was a good idea.

I mean for fuck's sake, drunks can be the most annoying people in the world. Now you have a hopped up wide awake drunk.

Evil I tell you, pure evil.

This is the point where I should have said, "You know last week you almost missed your flight because we stayed out until it was time for you to go to the airport, and I worried my niece because I didn't come home until very late." Then he should say, "You know what Kel, you're right. We'll just have a few beers and have a good time."

Instead I said "OK!"

They just go down so easy and don't taste like alcohol. I puffy heart Red Bull too, so it is just a bad combo.

I have no idea how many I had. I have no idea how many he had. Something got totally fucked up along the way though and he paid the tab when at 2:30 the owner was telling us we had to leave.

C got Ef'd in the A again.

So we call the niece, and she's already on her way thankfully. "I may be 19, but I know bars don't stay open that late," she says, sounding rather annoyed.

We then proceed to go to C's house and sit in his truck in his driveway and listen to Dave Matthews for 4 hours.

I would expand upon that part a little more, but once we talked the niece into listening to music for awhile the rest gets a bit fuzzy.

So we sang and laughed and talked. Poor niece was drifting in and out of sleep from her seat in the back. Why the hell we stayed in a Truck in the middle of winter in Chicago is beyond me. Seemed like a good idea at the time?

Around what I would guess to be 6:00 we decide we would be such sweethearts if we took C's sis-in-law breakfast since she has to work. Things start to come in a bit clearer at this point as I'm assuming my blood alcohol level finally started going down.

"NO!" comes the verdict from the niece.

"Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaasssssssssseeeeeeeeeeee," we say in unison.

"I'm sober now," C says.

"No you're not!!" screams the niece. "FINE I'll drive you," she says and off we go!

I could go into the horrible experience we had at McDonald's, the way C did a flying leap in between his brother and sis-in-law while they were still sleeping, the way we accidentally woke up his niece, the lecture we got about how even though it was a nice gesture it wasn't all that smart, and how we ate the McDonald's before the sis-in-law got to the table.

But we don't want to go into that, as this post is already hella-long (thank you South Park).

Basically we are in trouble yet again. The Niece has grounded us from each other for two weeks. She can laugh about it now, as can his brother and poor SIL.

The problem is he paid. The poor guy got Ef'd in the A over and over that day. I guess when we are done being grounded we are going to have to do it again.

This time we'll be more responsible though. We will act like adults. We'll just go out and have a good time and come home.

Yeah, and hell could also freeze over. I have to do something for him though, and I told him if he don't let me I'll start calling him like a girl who has just been laid properly for the first time.

It is a good thing we'll never reproduce. The mixture of our DNA would be quite a scary concept indeed.