When Charlie and I went to Oakland a couple weeks ago for my college roommate’s wedding, I made the rookie mistake of leaving the charger for my iPhone/iPad on the bedside table at The Washington Inn. (Mini-hotel review: Lovely for grown-ups; not baby-friendly. No cribs, not stroller[/cane]-friendly. But way cuter than a Courtyard Marriott, so no regrets.) This meant an electronics-free flight home, including the three-hour layover in Denver. No Twitter feed to consume, no Scrabble to play, no audio book to listen to, no eBook to read. On the way to California, I had Charlie in my arms all six hours and wasn’t able to do any of those things anyway, but Southwest had extra seats on the way back and were letting me bring the car seat. I would suddenly be a woman of leisure.
I don’t think I’ve gone to the “Humor” section of a book store since 6th grade, at which time I remember it being entirely stocked with Garfield coffee-table books. But the “Up-Its-Own-Ass Fiction” aisle of the Hudson Books at the Denver Airport was blocked by oversize luggage, and “Humor” is where I was able to fit the stroller. Somehow, I felt that losing a $58 charger meant I was entitled to go spend $26 at the airport bookstore. I bought a mom book for me (Reasons Mommy Drinks), a board book for Charlie (Little Owl Lost), and a Godiva chocolate bar (raspberry truffle) for immediate consumption. After all, I’ve earned it!
I was hesitant to purchase Reasons Mommy Drinks, by Lyranda Martin-Evans and Fiona Stevenson, largely because it seemed so very up my ally that I was concerned it would seep into my unconscious and I would accidentally steal their jokes. (Some of my best zingers in life end up being Simpsons references I forget had been burned into my brain.) But I learned a valuable lesson when Andy and I were on our relaxing Hawaiian honeymoon nine years ago and I bought Anna Karinina for beach reading: Don’t buy Anna Karinina for beach reading.
This book touts that it “includes 100 cocktail recipes to enjoy in your zero free time.” They speak my language. The book was funny and EASY TO READ, which is a must when you’ve got a book in one arm and a baby on the other. Every anecdote is no more than one page, with the accompanying cocktail recipe on the facing page. The biggest endorsement I can give this book is that I actually finished reading it. That’s not a thing that happens anymore. I’ve been trying to get through the last 10 pages of my August edition of Real Simple magazine since I brought it in my hospital bag for Charlie’s birth. I’m never going to learn how to make a 20-minute pasta dish with fresh summer vegetables. But now I theoretically know how to make 100 cocktails, and that’s something. These ladies also have a super-famous mom-blog, which I’d never heard go because the only blog in the universe is this one.
Anyway, you should read this book, or buy it as a gift for the sassy mom in your life. Little Owl Lost was a pretty good purchase, too. And that chocolate bar was fantastic.