In rare form.

I don't know what happened to the boy last night. I think it was a combination of the rum and jello shots at my landlord's 30th birthday party, and then the drinks at the Funky Buddha (along with a couple of shots his friends bought him there)... in any case, he was in rare form.

I knew it when I was sitting with my friend Roman and the boy sat down next to me, put his arm around me, kissed me on the cheek... and whispered something naughty in my ear. Any form of PDA and I know he's definitely a little more than tipsy.

So I drove him home (I did not partake of the rum or the jello shots or any of the other shots) - let him be silly and drunk... and got him into bed. Then he started to not be so well, and I knew he wasn't getting up to make it to the bathroom, so I ran to get a trash can and I was too late. I came back in and found him laying on his stomach, head hanging off the side of the bed, lurching. (Caught the rest of it in the trash can, cleaned up the carpet, changed the pillowcase, made sure he was ok, you know the drill... and went to sleep.)

Woke up this morning, asked him how he's feeling. He said he doesn't remember getting home last night, I said good! He fell back asleep for a few minutes, I did too. Woke up again and he was already awake, looking at me with those sleepy, hungover eyes and said in that groggy morning voice, "You're so adorable."

How could I possibly be upset with him about the mess he made???