Jell-O shots, honky tonkin’ and birthday celebrations make for one fabulous Nashville weekend.
My mama’s birthday was this past weekend and my Aunt Crazy Pants was top secretly flying in from Iowa as a surprise. Being that it was late in the evening on Thursday night and the fact that her flights were all on time, I didn’t think twice about heading to the airport in the classiest threads in my closet.
When luggage didn’t make the flight, I realized I would have to grace the airport with an appearance and I got to proudly march through baggage claim in my most subtle t-shirt and see through stretch pants.
On Friday Ted anxiously helped with the decorating as he’s an old party pro, being that I’m his mama. New Cat was carefully taking pointers while being sure to rest his bowling ball sized belly near the front window, unable to lift a paw to help.
Once the party prep was complete, there was only one thing left to do – get the celebration started properly.
After a few happy shots, we needed to hide Aunt Crazy Pants quietly.
So we put her on a stool in the corner of my bathroom. I’m nothing if not a gracious host.
Turns out Mama CBXB had zero clue any shenanigans were in the making and the surprise went off without a hitch.
Our fabulous foursome of ladies was complete with the entrance of L-Dawg and we started to party like classy dames….which didn’t last long.
The inner rock stars came out about 19 minutes into the evening….
Aunt Crazy Pants decided to showcase her abilities to take Jell-O shots off of her own chest…
And Camo had to be called later in the night, as my aunt decided to try and single-handedly destroy my closet after copious amounts of spiked gelatin.
All in all a fun way to spend a Friday night.
Saturday greeted us with bottomless mimosas and some girl talk for breakfast.
After spending the entire day in our pajamas, it was time to get gussied up and head downtown to honky tonk.
My 6’4″ dad drives a vehicle the size of a clown car but thankfully all of our curvaceousness fit into the backseat with no problems.
As soon as we hit Roberts Western World, it was time for jazz hands to come out and play.
I worked off all of my alcohol intake by sweating it out on the dance floor like it was my job with my new friend Gramps.
Aunt Crazy Pants had a much better time being twirled around by her own personal Fred Astaire.
There’s nothing less annoying than the dancing crew who takes endless selfies of themselves, in hopes one photo will capture all of the fun taking place.
Sunday morning came all too soon and my poor pussies were pooped from all of the weekend late night festivities.
And while we cat napped the rest of the weekend away, the three days of celebrating were well worth the headache(s), liver dehydration and caloric overload.
Here’s hoping your week is off to a fabulous start!