If you would have told me that on Saturday night of Labor Day weekend I would be sitting in a hotel with an 11 year old about to fall asleep at 8pm, I would have laughed in your face. My bets would have been on a casual bbq at Joe Landi's house followed by a booze filled night at Shoreclub. Half the crew would have been kicked out by now due to offensive one-liners to chicks while the rest of us would be victoriously holding red-bull vodka slushies and belting out in song. Memorial Day weekend and 4th of July weekend had similar scenarios so automatically Labor Day weekend should follow suit. Clearly, it is not.
Thus this means one of two things:
1. we are rapidly getting older and more lame
2.(my biggest fear) our group is divorcing
Recently, half of the boys dispersed to their respective ships which we knew would happen eventually. Other members have paired off with significant others...something that was bound to happen as well. You can only slut around PB for so long until it becomes tremendously exhausting forcing you to grab ahold of one fine lady.
For the past 8 months, I have considered the Navy boys to be my brothers; a family that exists away from home. In some respects, I am like a mother anxiously awaiting each of their returns.
So until they all return, I will wait. I will wait for my boys to come home safe and sound. I will wait for the next four day weekend. I will wait to make more memories with our PB family.
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