Every year Dalekins and all his friends get together for their annual Old Boys School dinner thingy mabobby. To laugh, to cry, to listen to boring speeches about how the very fabric of our nation is built on the moral code of “Old Boys”. This is what they tell me. I however, am completely convinced that their high school is a cult and they use this “dinner” as an excuse to get together, wear ugly green cloaks, slaughter a goat and then drink beer from it’s bladder while telling tales of the olden days… 1995… I’m also pretty sure the night usually ends with them standing in a circle with a tennis biscuit in the middle but we won’t dwell on that…. Anyhoo, much drinking is done afterwards. So because I am a feck off awesome wifey, I tell Dalekins to go forth, be merry, I shall fetch you from your drunken location at whatever time you want so that you don’t have to drive.
I know. It’s a curse being this nice.
So on Sunday morning at approximately 1:45 I get this…
Dalekins:”Tashhhhhhhhhh…. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease come fetch me… I’m… I’m gonna start walking…” *sounding very upset*
Me: “NO! I am on my way I will be 5 minutes do NOT walk anywhere stay put” *visuals of him being mugged by tsotsis*
Me: “?” *blink blink*
So I run out the door only throwing a jacket over my moo cow jammies because the boy sounded like he was in serious distress and was desperate to get home – No time for Revlon in times of crisis I tell you!
…And there I find Dalekins 4km’s from the house… 2 steps to the left… a stumble to the right… on the side of the road, trying to WALK home! So I pull up next to him, open the door and smile sweetly at the drunken fool.
He does not smile back!
As a matter of fact he backs up a little, squints at me and looks completely repelled, I was almost sure he was about to start legging it down the road screaming “STRANGER DANGER” thinking I was about to kidnap him! The boy was so drunk he didn’t recognize me (I’ve recently gone brunette – this little tidbit didn’t help the cogs click into place in his brandy swaddled noggin). So after 5 minutes I manage to coax him in the car.
Well the fumes were enough to burn my eyelashes off. He was BEYOND drunk. Drunker than I had ever seen him…! I had to hold him upright so he didn’t keep knocking his head on my gear lever!
*drives off slowly so as not to somersault his tummy around – remembering the burger-patty-gate from our last drinking experience*
Dalekins: “I’m scared … I’m so scared!” *shivering*
Scared? I slam on breaks thinking why the hell is he scared, have his friends gotten into a fight, are they hurt somewhere, what’s happened, do I need to get the tyre iron out of the boot??
Me: ”Why!! What’s happened, why are you scared?!!”
Dalekins:”I’m scareddddd you’re not really taking me hommmmme….”
*looks down at pyjamas*
Me: “No honey I promise I am taking you home”
*fast forward 15 minutes of trying to get him out of the car, trying to convince him I am NOT trying to steal his cell phone and after a vomey in the neighbours parking*
*flops Dale down on the bed to start undressing him to get him into bed*
Me: “Dale! FOCUS! Lift your bum so I can pull your pants off”
*fast forward another 10 minutes* *finally gets pants off and breaks 3 nails in the process*
*pulls on boxer shorts*
Now this is where things got weird… Dale grabs onto his boxers like his life depends on them and refuses to let me get them off!! I wrestled them for … and I shit you not… 10 minutes…
Me: “Dallllllllllllllllllllllllllllle just let me take your boxers offffffffffffff”
Me: “Dalllllllllllllllllllle!” *yanks*
Dale: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” (I swear if he could have reached the bedroom side table the boy would have pepper sprayed me)
Me: “Dale! You are safe at home! You are NOT in jail, you CAN take your pants off”
Dalekins: “Oh…” *instantly lets go* *sends me flying into the cupboard*
For the love of….
So he looks at me, his eyes clear for a split second, looks down at his nakedness and somehow manages in his state (which is a miracle on it’s own) to wiggle his eyebrows at me and says “Hey baby why don’t you jump on top here….” And taps his thighs… !!!
Me: “Yes my darling because I have NEVER felt this attracted to you with vomit in your teeth and smelling like a brewery… hold me back…”
Dalekins: *looking very confused and then starts to laugh hysterically*
Dalekins: “Why the HELL do you want to vomit in my teeth you mad woman?” *disgusted face*
Well that was me finished, it had taken me 5 minutes to drive him home and almost an hour to get him into bed. Never mind having to drag him to the toilet and making him pinky swear that he was finished peeing before I would help him off the toilet because it would have absolutely made my night had I have dragged him away from the toilet and he’d peed on my feet and then pulled my pony tail to flush… it would have been over.
Dalekins: *yawn* “Shew I have a sore head… so like…. Did you fetch me last night? Why do you look so… pouty?”