This year the Marine Ball was held at the Dead Sea. Given the massive quantities of vomit that were flying around our house as recently as Thursday evening, I was seriously concerned that we would have to cancel. But somehow everyone managed to be not-sick on Friday, and so we sent our eldest child away for a sleepover and asked the nanny to stay overnight with the other three.
Then off we went to the Dead Sea Marriott, where, upon check in, no one complained about being hungry, and no one bopped anyone else on the nose with a backpack, and no one called anyone else a dummyhead, and no one fell off the bed, or otherwise required medical assistance. It was ever so strange.
We had a great time, eating and drinking and yes, even dancing, despite my firm belief that there is nothing on this earth more ridiculous looking than me, dancing. Apparently I hang out with a bunch of enablers, because every time I'd finish off a glass of something, someone would refill it. Bart's strictly a soda water guy, so it was mostly just me with a constant refill. But at least I wasn't drinking out of a bottle with a straw, as was one of my friends. And I didn't accidentally stick the back of my heel through my dress, so there's that. And no one had to kick me out of the place at 3 a.m. - I didn't even make it 'til midnight before I turned back into a pumpkin.
We had a great time, but I think I'm glad it's over for the year. I'm exhausted! Next up: Thanksgiving dinner for forty.