We were up at 3am looking at some really lovely fluffy snow. Aaron's friend was here, and he kept saying, "This is the last snow, we better get out here and enjoy it," while they stood outside. Ok, they had quite a bit to drink, so perhaps it didn't register for them how cold it was. I could only go out a few seconds at a time. It was pretty. I want to enjoy, but I'm ready for winter to go go go.
This morning the house smelled like cooked drunks. Ya know what I mean---the heat is up way too high after the sun comes up, and it ends up baking and intensifying the gin/beer fumes seeping from pores of these snoring, well pickled fellows. Dogs were walking across their faces, and both of them barely moved.
I can't have one drink anymore. I start to envy that they can trash themselves like this sometimes and get up and move on like it didn't happen, but this afternoon Aaron is a sad sack of hangover grief. Finally, a consequence for the man who claims to have alcohol superpowers and the stomach of a teenage goat. Nowadays his tummy might actually react when he eats a bag of fiery hot beef jerky, 8 beers and a mixing bowl full of cheese. I think it's important for him to know he's human.