Siete de Mayo

For those of you who aren’t fluent in Spanish numbers, Siete is 7. And so, Siete de Mayo can also be known as two full days after I partied hard celebrating whatever it is Cinco de Mayo is for (Independence Day in Mexico? I’m not sure). Anyway, we rocked out hard. By we, of course, I mean me, a fifth of Tequila (Fifth for the fifth!), and my disapproving wife who has to work in the morning.

I, thankfully, didn’t have to work yesterday, which was tomorrow back on the Fifth. The reason I didn’t (and still don’t) have to work is because Larry tried to do a donut in the forklift and took out my knee. Couldn’t have been prevented really, but hey, that’s life. And I don’t blame him. In fact, I owe him a ‘thank you’ card for getting me on workers comp. I get a whole two months off and one of those cool knee scooter things! (Google it)

Heck, if I’m being honest, I don’t even remember yesterday existing. I jumped straight from Five to Siete… or something like that. The night of the fifth is kind of a blur as well. But I awoke on the seventh (siete) to find that someone had the gall to deface my knee scooter with crude drawings. There is currently a disagreement about who would have done it (either me or my wife. Sure, I was blind drunk, but that means she had motive because she hates when I drink during the week. And thanks to me being dead to the world on the sixth (Seis in Spanish if you’re keeping with the theme), she also had opportunity). (Sorry about all the parentheticals) 

I’ll keep you updated as the case of the scooter vandal develops. Happy Siete de Mayo!

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