Keg Boy
I had a voice mail when I got into work this morning, and it was just one word long. It was my husband, and he just said the word, "Hangovers!" and hung up. But he said it in the fashion of that Christmas novelty song, the 12 Things I Hate About Christmas, where one of them is the hangover. But the guy in the song says it in some kind of accent, maybe a Bronx accent, so it sounds like "Haaingovahs!"

You see, one of the disadvantages of owning a keg fridge is that there is really no limit to the amount of beer you can drink. If you buy a 12-pack, you're done after 12 beers. Not so with the keg.

So Keg Boy had a bit too much to drink last night. You would think this would happen more often, but it really doesn't. He usually has 2-3 pint glasses of beer and then calls it a night. I guess last night he really put it away. And I know he didn't sleep well, because I woke up in the middle of the night and he was awake, laying on his back with his hand over his head.

Poor baby.