Hey don't get pissy with me. I have pants and apparently I have yours too.

I am going to keep it light tonight.  Such a nice, low key weekend at the Wangs.

I thought I would tell a story that highlights the weaknesses of both Ching and myself--his lack of planning and my love of drink.

Back in the fall of 2006, I was invited to a work event on a Sunday.  You know what type of work event can only involve a Sunday, wooing (if you are in sales) and the fall...this was a football game invite.  I was invited to a Patriots game wooing a major financial firm.  And we weren't sitting in the bleachers..we had a box/suite.  (I don't even know what to call it.)  But let me describe it this way...it is an open suite.  There are heated cushion seats in the open air.  Or (if the weather sucks) a covered area, full of fatty goodness apps, any free drink, personalized service and your own bathroom.  This was not a way to baptize me to a regular season game.  Anyway, JCW was there....

During the same day, CCW, is flying out to Cincinnati for work.  Since I wanted to go to the work event, Ching and I needed to coordinate some sitters.  This was done...Ching flew out without incident and I got back to our condo with a sleeping Laurel.  I was somewhat tuned up..let's just leave it at that.  (Don't judge.  During the bus ride back from Gillette to the Backbay office...someone started making dirties...my nemisis.)

Needless to say, the next morning wasn't pretty.  I willed myself ready and knew that the nanny was on her way. That transition was fine but now I had to get to work.  When I finally got there, I got a call from Ching.  (My assumption was just a check in to see that Laurel and I were okay and that he got to Ohio just fine.  Oh no...)
CCW:  Can you mail me some pants?
JCW:  What?  (My head is freakin' pounding)
CCW:  I need you to Fedex some pants.
JCW:  How did you get to Ohio without pants?
CCW:  Jude (getting pissy..)
JCW: (Hey don't get pissy with me.  I have pants and apparently I have yours too.)
CCW:  I flew in my jeans.  When I packed, I didn't include my dress pants.  I can't go to the office in my jeans.
JCW:  ( I don't even suggest going to his local Brooks Brothers.  He can't get his pants altered in record time.)  Of course, what pants do you want overnighted?  I will take care of it.

In a couple of hours, I am jamming his pants in a mid-size fed ex box en route to Cincy.  My head is still pounding.  I feel guilty that I was around Laurel saturated in vodka.  I feel guilty that I wasn't there to check Ching's bags.  And God damn it, the Pats didn't even win that day.  They looked like bitch babies to the Jets.   The final score was 14-17...