Yesterday afternoon, we had a company wide all managers meeting at the end of the day. After the meeting, my boss proposed a little bit of 'team building', of which my amazing wife was highly supportive.
Our 'team building' took place at a local pub named Jackson's, and there are many wing-less chickens running around now because of my companions and I. There is also a lot less Coors Light in the world...all of which might be okay, except my boss decided that for desert, we should switch from Coors Light to Red Hook Long Hammer IPA. My stomach, full of more than my share of the 100 wings we bought, was not pleased with this decison.
Even less pleased was my wife. I'm not sure it was the fact that I came home all happy and proud for eating 30 wings(hey, as was picking up the slack for those less motivated than me), or that I was out late, because I was home by 7:30, and got to read my girls their bedtime story. It was the horrible, horrible things my body was doing shortly after I got home, and the fact that I was pretty useless/miserable the rest of the night. The combination of high sodium wings and beer....well, I am not as young a I used to be.
I blame it on my wife...if she wasn't so amazing, cool, and understanding, she wouldn't let me do things like this to myself.
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