Weekend Warriors

It’s Friday afternoon. Date night is two hours away, and I’m doing the Mambo #5 with the broom all around the kitchen. Drew and Clay pick up on my euphoric mood taking advantage of me in every way.

“Mom, can I skip doing my homework for the next week?” Drew says.
“Sure honey. I think that’s a good idea.”
“Mom, can I have that Michael Jordan rookie card I’ve been wanting?” Clay adds.
“How much?”
“$500 or something like that.”
“Well, ok. But just this once.”
Judd quicky says, “Mama, I want a twiple scoop of ice cweam wif a mawshmawow on top.”
“Coming right up. Do you want chocolate syrup drizzled over it?” I ask.

Suddenly, everyone is happy and we’re all doing the Mambo #5.

I skip lunch so that I’ll be famished when Sean and I arrive at our favorite local eatery in Park City – The Loco Lizard. After washing down two chipotle chicken mushroom cheese covered enchiladas with two Diet Dr. Peppers, I unbutton the top button on my jeans and heave my Mexican food stuffed self up and out of the booth. Sean and I do a giddy, watered down version of the electric slide to the car as we kick-off our night of kidless fun.

Our first stop – Gap outlet. I spot this and say, "Hmm, this isn’t bad."

Sean spots this and says, “Hmm this isn’t bad.”

We both spot this and say, "Hmm this is wow." Since neither of us have ever seen a grown up onsie, or is it a full body g-string?

Next stop – Zipline at Park City Mountain

I’m flying down the mountain at speeds that I’m certain changes the way my face looks. My nose squishes to the side; my eyeballs become closer to my ears; and my lips are flapping wildly with the wind. I’m fine with the new arrangement since maybe now I can cancel my upcoming cosmetic surgery. I let my limbs catch the air and tip my head back to enjoy the feeling that I’m flying when suddenly the thought occurs to me – I could have a serious head on collision with a bird at any time. And it would probably be one of those freakin’ magpies that have been square dancing on my roof! I jerk my head upright and grasp the cables a little tighter as I envision what might happen. The bird might fly right into head knocking me unconscious and spraying unmentionables all over me. The bird’s beak might stick into my forehead, and it might flap its wings uncontrollably trying to get free. Then I realize a bird probably won’t fly into me. It’s dark and birds usually aren’t out at night. But bats are. BATS!

Suddenly I come to a disturbing stop and fly forward in my seat. My hair is now completely covering my eyes and face. "Shiz," I say to the guy with the orange spiked mohawk operating the zipline. "I about lost my head."

Sean slides to a comfortable stop next to me. I brush my hair out of my eyes and unbuckle my seatbelt. I look over at Sean and say, “Hah. Beatcha.”

He chases me down the rest of mountain, but I don’t get very far because I think a piece of enchilada gets lodged in my ribs. I hop on Sean's back and we wrap up the night of crazy fun by doing the two-step the rest of the way to the car.