Yesterday, my brother, Bo, had a coaches' meeting here in Dallas. It was a day trip, so I was his ride to and from the airport. I picked him up and took him to the hotel for his meeting and then came back home. The whole family went back to pick him up after his meeting so we could all go out to eat before he had to be back at the airport.
We went to a place called Snuffers for some cheese fries and other junk food. It's a bar too and they were offering draft beers for dirt cheap. Aaron and I decided to order one. We don't get out much and cheap beer is one of those things we get kind of excited about. I don't know if it was the frosty glass or the price, but it tasted yummy. Since Aaron was driving and only having one, I decided to order another. Two beers isn't a big deal, right?
Well, two beers isn't. And I didn't even get three drinks into the second one when disaster struck. I don't know why, but Rhett was squealing for something at his end of the table. I reached over to hand him another cracker and knocked my GLASS over. It shattered everywhere. Beer went all over my baby. Beer. On my baby. He was screaming and the waiters were all staring at us. I'm sure they were trying to decide which one of them would call Child Protective Services on the drunk lady in the back.
Now, Rhett is kind of a weenie about loud noises, and the crash was very loud. We were all a bit startled, so I assumed that he was screaming because it scared him. And his pants were soaked in beer. (Oh my gosh, did I just say my baby's pants were soaked in beer? Someone call Betty Ford.) I removed his pants and snuggled him for a bit while the waiters scrambled to clean all the glass off of the table and floor. He seemed fine. I set him back down in the freshly cleaned high chair and all was well.
He started to fuss a bit and I decided to get him out and walk around with him. And that's when I noticed the problem. Tiny cuts on his hands and knees. Little shards of glass had apparently either gotten through his pants or had been on the high chair when I put him back in.
So not only did I spill beer all over him, but my glass cut the poor little baby. I feel like the biggest dirtbag loser in the world. Especially for finishing the replacement beer the waiter brought me while Rhett sat in the highchair bleeding. Jeez. Could I be any worse?