She had too much to drink

Amidst the fun football festivities last night she may have gotten swept up in the excitement and consumed excessive amounts of beverage. Orange soda to be exact. I should let them drink that eerily colored carbonated liquid garbage soda on a regular basis. Then, perhaps they would not gorge themselves on it at every (scarce) opportunity, resulting in the irresistible urge to purge at the exact moment I sit down for the very first time during the superbowl to watch my most favorite part, the ONLY bit I was actually looking forward to (aside from the National Anthem, of course.): The Halftime Show. This year, it was The Black Eyed Peas for goodness gracious sakes. Don't they know? I hold extra special love and adoration for this group. (I mean really, who else could convince me first thing in the morning, immediately after I am awoken with an alarmed child's high pitched screechy voice alerting me to the reality that there is urine on the kitchen floor that today is going to be a good day!? NO ONE else could. One click of the playlist plus a crank of the volume dial, and I am dancing around my house, spray bottle in hand, full of delusional certainty that today will be a good day despite its unpleasant start. This woman needs TBEP.) Obviously oblivious to that fact, dear Meadow chose the precise instant Fergie and her male entourage came onto the field with those cool glowey dancer people, to relieve herself (all.over.the.floor.) of the clearly uncontainable volume of soda, homemade hot wings, french fries, carrots, celery, ranch dressing, and Green Bay cookies she had merrily devoured as I was slaving away in the kitchen in an effort to ensure that my family had a memorable party. Yes, indeed. It was not one I will soon forget. ☺

*Thankfully, she felt much better after letting loose and was quite well enough to run around the house for the remainder of the game, high on the thrill of her first superbowl experience as a junk food inhaling American citizen. As it should be. ♥