Supernanny

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The other night Dan was coming home in a taxi cab after a work-related dinner. It was one of those fancy dinners, where they do wine pairings, and in essence, you feel stuffed and drunk. So basically what I'm trying to say is that Dan was drunk. Anyway, he called me on his cell to tell me he was on his way home. Then he got all sweet-talky with me. The conversation went like this:

"So Alan emailed me photos of his wedding and it was really great," he slurred into the phone. "I kinda wish we went to the wedding." (We decided to decline the invitation because we had other plans. And really, I don't even know who Alan is. A work friend of Dan's?)

"Oh, that's nice dear. When do you think you'll be home?" I responded.

But Dan wanted to keep taking about Alan's wedding. "I mean looking at those photos, seeing the families smiling, how happy everyone was. It really touched me, ya know?" he said.

"Uh huh." I said back. I'm missing SuperNanny, dude. Let's wind up this phone call, is what I'm thinking.

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