And this friend comes in town over Labor Day weekend, so your friend orders a keg of his favorite beer to have in his hotel room while he is here.
Of course, he had already planned ahead and had his own means of libating (is that a word? It is now. Chelsea definition: drinking)
And so at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon you get this text:
(insert salsa dancing iPhone emoji here, because I probably did that little shuffle across my kitchen when I read the text)
Well... this was my life Labor Day weekend. I may have done the dance again when I go to pick it up and it's not one keg, but two kegs of Pacifico.
Conveniently, my mama's 21st birthday* is the last day of August. Birthing a child on Labor Day weekend? Genius. Who doesn't want 3day celebrations for the rest of their life?
We had a big cookout shebang at their place Saturday night. Of course, I pulled the best daughter EVER card and make her entire party incredibly well hydrated.
Killed one of two that night. Movin right along! Loaded up and took the other to a pool party the next day with a very firm "no one is leaving until this keg is floating". A full day of sun and beer lead to a lot of other shenanigans.
Dear friend of a friend, thank you very much for helping us to celebrate our labors, it was very much appreciated.
*Yes, my mother turned 21. Again. She has turned 21 every year since her coughcough 50th birthday.