#*hangover

Yesterday I had quite a headache*.

A cousin was in from Missouri this week, visiting the Minnesota families. Tuesday night Sheila and I hosted a taco dinner at our house. My brother spent a good deal of time mixing margaritas. I spent a good deal of time drinking them.

Wednesday afternoon one of my sisters texted. “Is it still OK if cousin Jenny stays at your house tonight?”

Still OK? I asked Sheila what I had offered. We’re much closer to the Interstate than my sister. Sheila said I had invited Jenny here for her last night in town. Of course Sheila and I are happy to have guests. We have a guest room!

After I told my sister it was still OK, she texted back, “Great. See you tonight.” Tonight? Again I asked Sheila what plans I had made. She told me my dad invited everyone out to dinner for Wednesday night. I had to text him to get reminded when and where.

Guest dog Lily paid for her room and board when Jack brought me some bison meat sticks (teriyaki flavor, my favorite) back from his road trip through South Dakota. Jack asked me yesterday how I liked them. That was the clue I needed to let me know who had left them in my refrigerator.

Jack brought the treats when he stopped by to have tacos, meet the cousin, and pick up his dogs. We were expecting to see girlfriend Ali as well. For some reason, as I learned the next day, I told people that Ali didn’t speak English. Wouldn’t it be fun to see people talking loudly and slowly to her? Well she didn’t make it, so as far as some people know, Ali really does not speak English.

Late last night I got hungry. Sheila said, “There’s a leftover frozen custard pie in the freezer. Your sister brought it last night.” Leftover? I said I wish I had tried it last night. “You did, Bob. You ate frozen custard with raspberries last night and also fed some to all the dogs.”

Those were some strong margaritas. Either that, or I drank 27 weak ones.