Clark Kent's Lunchbox: A NEW Post from The Daddy Blog of Tomorrow -

Last weekend Ashley hit the town with her friends and family for her bachelorette party. About two days before she cuddles up to me and asks, “So you can take Allie and Avery Saturday nigh, right?” I hadn’t planed on it, but how could I say no, thus denying my gorgeous bride the opportunity to shake her to shake her inebriated booty for all of Houston’s male populace. “Sure, Sweetie, you go have a good time.” I knew I could DVR the Celtics game anyway…

Allie, ever perceptive, was aware her mother’s social agenda had been booked for the evening and as such had already been claiming that she would be joining mother on the dance floor Saturday evening. Know the potential for drama this could present once Allie realized her Hannah Montana Fake ID Kit wouldn’t get her past the doorman, I figured I’d better plan something both her and Avery would want to hang around for.

Trying to figure out a way to create an agenda that would mimic as much as possible what they believed there mom would be doing I came up with the Bachelorettes’ Party. First, we had drinks at the bar to get loosened up. I mixed up some “Girl-teenies” (Sprite, green food coloring and a cherry in a martini glass). Then we ordered up some pizza, and hit on the cute delivery guy (my cousin Jeremy – thanks Big Guy), who we then talked into have a few drinks with us over dinner.

After, drinking, we pulled the furniture out so Allie and Avery could lay their blankets out and lay on the floor to watch a surprise presentation of Alvin and the Chipmunks while eating popcorna and Barbie Princes Snacks. Boom-Chica-Wow-Wow!

By the end of the movie the girls had partied their butts off and were ready for bed (they just needed to be reminded of it).

"Is this what mommy was doing at her girl party?" Avery asked.

"Absolutely, kiddo." I said tucking her in.

As soon as they passed out, the pizza delivery guy and I turned on the game, drank some brewskies, and BS’d about “man” things.

“Hey,” the pizza guy asked during a commercial break, “Do you think you could whip me up one of those ‘Girl-teenies?’”

I looked over at him. “Hey, next weekend, let go see that new Sex In The City movie, and then buy some new shoes we’ll never wear.” Then I pinged him in the head with a soft-jellied likeness of Princess Barbie’s bust.