Mother of the year, right here.

You all probably know that I'm not much of a drinker. I don't like the feeling of not being in control of myself...or the sneaking suspicion that someone is going to "need" me for something and I won't be able to take care of it. Plus, I'm not a big drinker of any liquid. I get too full. So, I can never seem to drink enough to get drunk. I'm always the one in any group who is "the lightweight" or the "tea-totaler".
Anyway, Friday after work a bunch of us went out. We went to a little bar that's about two miles from my house. Jay was in Philly and Braden was at work at Dorney Park. Keith...well, he was around but going out later. Soooo, we're at the bar for a couple of hours and I had four mugs of beer. Very unusual for me, and I was feeling pretty good. We were having a great time...talking, laughing, etc.
So, anyway, I come home and walk in the door to an empty house. My first thought is I'm going to go right to bed in the quiet. Well, my phone rings, it says it's Braden. "Hello," I say. "Hi, this is Melinda from Dorney Park First Aid" "Yeah?" I say. "We have Braden here. He says he hasn't eaten in 24 hours, and that he's feeling light headed and has chest pains." "Chest pains," I ask? "Anytime there's chest pains involved, we recommend a trip to the hospital. Can you come and pick him up and take him to the ER?" Now, Dorney park is about 45 minutes from here. I reply, "this is going to sound really awful, but I went out after work and had a couple of drinks. I really shouldn't drive to Allentown, and my husband isn't home." In a somewhat critical voice she says, "Ok. We'll call an ambulance." "How is he now? Chest pains, really?" She says he says he feels better but he has to go to the hospital before he can come back to work the next day. "Tell him I'll call my husband and we'll meet him at the hospital."
So I call Keith....at a bar, and tell him to come home so we can go. I feel embarrassed, and like the worst mother ever. But at the same time, I know how Braden is and he can be a bit of an "overstater", so I truly doubt there's anything wrong with him. We get to the hospital to see Braden, in a hospital bed, eating a turkey hoagie, laughing with the nurses and the guy from the park that went with him. I wanted to strangle him. Turns out everything was fine, but I had to admit to someone I wasn't in control enough to drive my son to the hospital, and answer questions about why he didn't eat for 24 hours. (he had dinner the night before....what am I supposed to do follow him to school to make sure he eats his lunch?).
Plus, he really ruined by buzz.