20 Days and Hanging with the Bachelorette

Phone call from Meggie last Sunday morning.

So, honey how do you feel?

Like I’ve been hit by a truck. My face looks like I’ve been hit by a truck too. But dammit my hair still looks good!

Ah the much beloved bachelorette party for my daughter. Damn did we have some fun. I took no photographs of the debauchery because, well, it’s nobody’s fucking business. I do have to say that I was glad to be part of the festivities. I helped the bridesmaids decorate for the party. No, we did not use condoms as balloons. We had a tropical theme since Meg’s getting married on a beach in Key West. We do have a little class. Except for the fact that the party goers drank 4 dollar bottles of wine and rum punch that looked like Tidy Bowl toilet cleaner. We do have a little class. I helped with the food too. We had to make sure the party goers had something in their stomachs to soak up the booze.

We had dinner first at Mongolian Barbecue. I love that place. It’s so damn loud there. We laughed at the grillers as they sang to the bride to be, Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Hey, Goodbye. They made her wear a veil of tin foil and paper towel. One of the grillers hit on her. Told her he wished he’d met her before she got engaged. As she was walking back to the table she told M, “he doesn’t remember, but I met him a few years ago at a frat party.” Ah well, some men are just stupid players. So stupid they don’t remember someone that they hit on a few years back at a party.

By the end of dinner my ADHD was in high gear from the sights and sounds of the restaurant. The clanging of the griller’s metal cooking utensils on the circular grill. The noise of our silly conversations. The droning voices of the other diners. The music, the bright lights, all of it was dizzying. I told my friends and Meggie, “there’s no way in hell I could work here. I’d lose my ever loving mind!” Meggie and I shared a deep-fried Oreo. I think I gained four pounds on the spot. I looked at my girl next to me, told her, “thank you for letting me be a part of your last hurrah.” She said, “of course Mom. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I rode back to our home town with L. She and I have been besties for 30 years. She told me about her impending divorce. About wanting to find someone new. That it was so damn difficult. We laughed as we shared stories from the informal class reunion the night before. I told her, “I’m all grown up and when I stood in that bar last night, I felt like I did when I was 17. Like a square peg trying to fit into a round hole.” She reiterated that she felt the same way too. I said, “maybe that’s why I never went to a reunion before. Because if I really wanted to hang out with any of the fuckers I wouldn’t have waited 25 years to do so.” L just laughed at me and shook her head.

Back at one of the bridesmaid’s houses we settled in for a sex toy party. Meg and I were the comedy team. The dirty things she and I talk about make some people blush. We don’t care really. It’s like a dare for us. Let’s see what the other can say to get someone to laugh or raise an eyebrow. One of my friends stuck a vibrator on my back. I looked at her and said, “don’t do that, it makes me hawt!” She looked at me and said, “girl you’re crazy.” “Of course I am”, I replied, “It’s one of the reasons why you love me.” She just smiled at me and nodded her head yes.

I watched the girls slowly get plastered. I watched them laugh uproariously at our antics. At the stories we shared. I think I told them not to have sex on a beach because they’ll get sand in their vagina and it will hurt like a mother! I took in the sight of these girls that I’ve known since they were young. I looked at them and realized they are all grown up. They are young, viable, productive adults. Saturday they were drunk and funny as fuck. I was glad I was there. I’m damn glad that my daughter and I have the kind of relationship where she isn’t embarrassed of me. That we are friends, even though we are mother and daughter.

Believe me, the friends thing didn’t happen till she was out of the house. Even now I can switch back to Bitch Mom in a heartbeat. And she can switch back to Bitch Daughter just as quick. These last 20 days are going to fly by. Roger Darling and I need to pack so we can head to Florida and get on a ship. Meggie’s life will be forever changed on this trip and so will ours. For the good. Most assuredly for the good.