New Year’s Eve 2012
1 minute 14 seconds on the clock: My 15-year-old daughter squeals in delight, with her noise maker in hand and her boyfriend by her side.
1 minute 10 seconds: 19-year-old daughter enters the room with her boyfriend. She wasn’t quite as bouncy, as she was coming off an evening long sugar high.
50 seconds on the clock: Ryan Seacrest announcing that the ball has begun its descent.
15 seconds on the clock: “Dad! Get out here!” 15-year-old yells.
13 seconds on the clock: Greyhound vomits in the middle of the room. It’s green and it smells.
12 seconds on the clock: A chorus of “Ewwwww! That’s so gross!”
11 seconds on the clock: I’m on the run for the nearest towel.
4 seconds: I return with a towel, as daughter yells again, “Dad!”
3 seconds: I throw the towel over the throw-up.
I throw my arms in the air, cheering, “Happy New—“ To my left, 19-year-old is making out with her boyfriend. To my right, 15-year-old is making out with her boyfriend. Husband is still missing in action. “Whatever." I slump off. "I’m going to bed.”
So, how did you ring in the new year?