Family Night Fever

Several years ago, we began the tradition of dedicating Friday evenings to Family Night. These outings could be something as extravagant as dinner at Bamboo Grille followed by a Diamondbacks game at Chase Field. Or they could be something simple like riding our bikes to McDonald's for ice cream. In any case, Friday nights were earmarked for family togetherness.

This family custom went by the wayside months ago when Quinton got sick. We didn't think much about it at the time, but we all missed it. And there was no way we were going to do Family Night when one of our key members was unable to attend. Oh, sure, the boys and I went out and did things while Q was in the hospital. But there was NO WAY we were going to refer to those outings as "Family Night". Not without Dad.

Anyway, last night turned into an impromptu Family Night. We didn't have anything planned. Nobody suggested anything. And nobody expressed a desire to go anywhere. The boys did want to go swimming, and that was just fine with me and Q because we wanted to break in the new cushions I bought for the lounge chairs.

So, what started out as a relaxing evening at home soon turned into a full blown pool party fueled by margaritas (I was the only one drinking), Paul Stanley...I mean, Luke's guitar, and the disco playlist on my iPod. Nothing beats watching Slash rock out to Amii Stewart's "Knock on Wood".

By the time the disco ran out, I was drunk enough to tolerate Quinton's chosen playlist--country. Right around that time, the boys started making pee jokes. I only mention this because Luke cracked one that was just too funny. He announced that "somebody emptied a pitcher of lemonade in the pool". Kyle and I laughed our heads off. Quinton gave me his patented "you're the only one who thinks that's funny" look.

After that, details of the rest of the evening are sketchy. Apparently, I made the last batch of margaritas far too strong. I do remember taking pictures of Kyle jumping in the pool. I got this great shot of him catching some air. I also remember Q and I dancing along to "Looking For Love In All The Wrong Places"--a marginally romantic song, at best--while he sang it to me. He's got a great baritone singing voice.

Unfortunatly, I also remember getting a horrible case of the "spins". No need to tell what happened then, but I really was in a bad way. When I woke up this morning, I saw that Q had left his hospital-issued kidney bean on my nightstand.