THE HAMPTONS SUMMER OF 2021: PART V!
THE HAMPTONS EMPTY NESTERS!
Like OMG! Pinch Me! I think they are gone!
Excuse me? Do you not know who I am referring to? Like you don’t have kids? Oy vey.
We might just be empty nesters for a hot second; I shan’t hold my breath.
Don’t you know it baby! Our kids always come back to the five star luxury hotel they fondly call home. Like duh… they have access to full concierge service; private chef; laundress; and a personal shopper. Need I say more?
Don’t Rain on My Parade!
Not to put a keina hura on this… Wait a minute. I know. You ask yourself, what in the hell is a keina hura?
If you read my articles, y’all know I like to throw out a yiddish word. Why do you ask? In my ‘Gay Speak’, I believe some Yiddish words best describe a situation. Keina hura means you don’t want to jinx something.
And honey…bless your heart… please don’t give me a keina hura on my empty nestin’! Really. This sistah needs some ME ME ME time!
I know you be laughin’ Rocio Guittierez. Just you wait…you got one mo’ year honey and then you too shall be liberated!
Time to celebrate! I went to my friend Linda’s house, who, by the by, is empty nestin’ for a minute.
Oh yeah baby. She popped open the champagne with her saber. Yes, as in sword. OMG… what a tough biatch! With a flick of her wrist, that champagne cork, along with half of the bottle was annihilated. Very impressive.
However, she claimed it was a ‘clean break’, and safe to drink! Well, if she say so. I am an attorney and ain’t nobody’s fool.
In addition, I made a mental note (hopefully I will remember), to keep Linda away from sharp knives!
Why is it so quiet in my house? Where is the parade of kids, their friends, and their appetites? Where is the loud music? Where is the constant emptying of the fridge, and the piling up of laundry?
Not to mention the faint smell of weed wafting through the house is no mas.
The reality of a post-COVID life is setting in. It is ok. Really. We all need a break to spread our wings. Time to free myself from the servitude of COVID. Basta!
Hell, time for me to finally to grow up and reclaim my inner-child. You betcha baby! I went to the liquor store for the first time in a hundred years and bought two bottles of Tito’s vodka! Cheers!
Screw all this adult shiat and responsibilities. These twenty-somethings want to be adults… then be one! Here is the grocery list; my laundry is in the basket; call the plumber to fix the broken pipe; and what is for dinner tonight? Oh, and by the way, do you have a credit card for me to use?
Word on the street is that I have a life independent of my children. Go figure!
As a matter of fact, I already have my first empty nestin’ playdate on the books for tomorrow! My friend Terry, bought a boat and is hosting a water-skiin’ girls’ day tomorrow! We all have to do nothin’! She hired a Captain to shepherd the boat on the rough seas of Peconic Bay. Shhhh… are Captain’s hunks? Just wonderin’. We hot mama’s need some eye candy!
You betcha girlfriends. Ms. Big Shot here. Yep! I’m da’ real deal. Although, I will be praying to my heavenly GODdess that I will be able to stand up on the skis. Would it be asking too much to not only be able to stand up on the water skis, but to actually ski on the water, as opposed to be dragged by the boat like a fish on a hook?
Come to think of it, I also need to wear a bikini top that will not fall off in the water. Although, this hot mama body was never known to attract crowds. Anywhere. Anytime. Ever. So sad.
Oh, and by the way: Before the ink was dry on this article, a kid just showed up for dinner!
Shiat! You gave me a keina hura!
To be continued…