Talk about the perfect storm of hand placement, trusting Tarlac with the camera and my utter failure at being cool...there are so many things wrong with this picture that I don’t even know where to start. Talk amongst yourselves.
This weekend, I am doing what I swore I would never do again…attend the ACL festival. However, I was fortunate enough to luck into some VIP passes meaning I am resting in style in the VIP Grove between shows. This gives me access to free drinks, free food, misters, shade, air conditioned and CLEAN bathrooms and even spa treatments. Yes, it’s a delight and yes, all that freedom is leading to excess. Example: my sis-in-law, Camille, and I upon having our first free cocktail say to each other… “Oh, let’s keep each other honest and pace ourselves. This could be dangerous.” Second drink… “You know what a better plan is? Drink as much as we can back here so we have a good buzz when we are watching the shows.” And as if that plan doesn’t sound dodgy enough, it then turned into.. “You know…we could just pour cocktails in these thermoses and drink those when we are at the shows.” You may notice that I am not mentioning anything about Tarlac. That’s because he had no fear of excess and this is how the night ended for him…
Camille and I taking turns holding him by his shirt, shuffling out with the masses. Unable to support the weight of his own head, he kept letting his own cranium fall down onto my head as well as Camille’s. He thought this was hiiiiiilarious…that Camille and I should come up with a plan to head butt him all the way home.
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