Whenever there’s a gaggle of soccer Moms on the dance floor, it’s the same scene.
One is too drunk, laughing at herself and her friends while she kicks in the air the way her son Donny does at practice.
One is too into the music, feeling herself and on the hunt for young men old enough to be her son in law.
There’s the mom of the moms, watching her friends relive high school and ready to hold the hair back of any sick friends.
And then there’s the one that needs that mom help. She needs help from ALL of her friends. The child of the moms. Too drunk to stand.
She will be the one to vomit in her lap, on their ride home, in a dodge caravan back to suburbia.