I peed in my suitcase.

"Guess what I did last night?"
"What?"
"Peed in my suitcase."

After work Wednesday, me, K, Seestar and brother in law, Johnny Bananas, hopped into my sister's car to begin the grueling 12 hour drive to the mitten state, for JB and Seestar's engagement party--and also to scope out wedding venues for the happy couple.

I managed to make it there and back without taking a driving shift, mainly because I am lazy, and also because I was very busy knitting a scarf in the backseat. (Don't judge me.)

Ring Pops, fo sho!

The party was an epic success, and we all got stupid drunk and ate ring pops until the wee morning hours.

...so successful, in fact, that my brother in law apparently awoke in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and mistook his suitcase for a toilet.

Naturally, my sister lept out of bed to do major damage control when she heard the sound of peeing, repeating "NONONONONONONO stop stop STOP," to which Johnny Bananas replied:

"I'm GOING."

Did I mention we were staying at his mom's house, and we woke her and his stepdad in the ruckus of our return from the bar?

Thank god my second mother in law is the coolest on the planet and we all woke up the next morning to laugh about JB's pee-filled suitcase.

Three loads of laundry later, we were back on the road to NY. I can't WAIT for Johnny Bananas' bachelor party. They better all wear Depends.