Last night was Moms' Night Out and it started off in a lovely way with Katie coming to pick me up at the dealership and me talking her head off as she drove us to the restaurant. I mean, I hadn't seen her in, like, two days, so I think it was understandable. It was understandable, wasn't it, Katie?
Well, we got to the restaurant and the first thing that happened was that Katie ordered a gallon-sized bucket of frozen strawberry margarita, so maybe I really did talk too much and felt the need to anesthetize herself from further burbling chatter from my yappy mouth.
The second thing that happened was that I ante-d up and ordered a giant-sized margarita of my own -- regular, on the rocks, no salt, because the salt they use at this particular restaurant is colored green and looks like the bartender smeared pond algae all along the rim of the glass -- which unfortunately made me talk even more. Katie showed polite signs of manic relief when Michelle walked in shortly thereafter; it would have hurt my feelings if she'd leaped from her chair, thrown her arms around Michelle's neck and cried, "THANK HEAVEN YOU'RE HERE."
Virginia came, but had to leave to pick up Isaac at choir rehearsal j-u-s-t as her dinner arrived. Thank goodness the restaurant is one that does a curbside carryout service; they have plastic flatware available. So, much to our disappointment, Virginia left carrying her dinner where she presumably ate it in a parking lot while waiting for her tuneful offspring to emerge from the building. That was the only down side of the evening.
Kayte came in just a little bit before Virginia had to leave and she had another one of her blog contests going on: The person who could tell her what today's blog post was about would win the cookie she'd made and brought along with her in a baggie. I, having partially exhausted my powers of speech, yelled out the answer right behind Katie, who was well-rested from listening to me rattle on and on, so she said, "Tomorrow is recipe day!" So she won the madeleine and cut it into pieces while I sulked.
Julie and Jerri bounced in late from a used curriculum sale they'd been to on the west side of the city; they were very delighted with their purchases and I was a bit jealous, frankly. Jerri snagged a completely unused Analytical Grammar student workbook for $30, and I think they're close to twice that much new. But I was carrying my Louis Vuitton handbag and set it on the table and told the story behind it (which poor Katie had already heard) and allowed me to go on and on about it. We all agreed that it is a very cute bag, but there's no way in you-know-where we'd ever spend that much money on it...and a couple of my friends there at the table could afford to.
(I'm seriously thinking of selling it on e-Bay. I have found that you have to be perilously careful when you're carrying a $600 handbag. Yesterday, I was thinking that if I had the choice of spilling my iced cappuccino on Meelyn and Aisling or on my Louis Vuitton handbag, I would choose Meelyn and Aisling in a heartbeat. They'll wash up nicely with no damage and they aren't lined with rich, buttery suede.)
Anyway, the best part of the evening occurred at about 9:12, when my husband and the girls were coming to the restaurant to pick me up. (They went to the dealership to stay until he got off work, then they went to Noble Roman's and had a slice of pizza and some breadsticks.) My husband was supposed to call me and tell me when they were out front waiting, so I was sitting there with my phone on the table, waiting, my back to the door. Thus positioned, I was unable to see him come in and approach the table, bearing one gorgeous, long-stemmed red rose, which he reached over my shoulder and laid on the table in front of me.
Strangely enough, I'd just been telling the gang that I thought I loved him as much as it was possible to love another human being on the day we got married, which is about three weeks shy of seventeen years. But as time has passed, I've found, as many couples do, that what you have with your spouse on your wedding day is a small, pale thing compared to what you have as time goes by.
So thank you very much, honey. That was a very lovely and romantic early anniversary gift!
I know it's just hair, but I still might cry. - I was wandering Target last night (a perfectly acceptable Friday night activity) when Annie sent me a text. It was a brief conversation: [image: photo f93ab...
1 week ago