So, I had a pretty great weekend. How about you?
Friday, we had some friends over for dinner for what I think will become a regular gathering. The wife of one of the husband’s oldest and dearest friends invited us and a few other oldest and dearest over for dinner at their house a couple of times. We all had such a good time together we figured we should make it a regular occurrence. The rough plan is to have dinner at someone’s house once a month. The husband has been rolling his eyes about the whole thing, whining that dinner parties are for yuppies. But he’d by lying if he told you he didn’t enjoy seeing his lifelong buddies regularly.
I’ve mentioned before that my very simple goal in life is to host Thanksgiving at our house, to be the default house where everyone arrives at when it’s time to celebrate something with family. I’m not at that point yet for a number of reasons, so smaller gatherings like this give me an opportunity to scratch that itch. When the husband offered to lodge some musician friends of his who were playing in town, I went buck wild preparing this delicious breakfast. Our guests expressed their bewilderment to the husband, who replied, “Yeah, she likes to flex on shit like this.”
So, of course, I got all excited about feeding our friends and made apple and fennel salad, roasted broccoli, tomato sausage lasagna, and chocoflan. Everything was delicious, if I do say so myself. Our friends John and Sarah brought their two little ones, including their 8-month old who is just so scrumptious. He and I got some cuddles in which I needed so badly.
After a long week, though, I fell asleep pretty early. Or, more precisely, I fell asleep in the middle of changing the channel on the TV, all “52–zzzzzz.”
Saturday, my dear friend Emily was getting married. We, of course, were running a few minutes late and when we got to the church, Emily and her attendants were lined up and about to go down the aisle. I panicked and RAN down the aisle with the husband behind me hissing, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!” When he caught up to me, he said, “What is WRONG with you? There’s a side entrance!” Ugh, I am such an ass.
The ceremony was beautiful and I was so happy to witness Emily marrying her true love. When I got to say hi to her afterward, she said that when she saw me in the door of the church, that was when she started crying. “Oh my god, was it because I was late and busted down the aisle like a total moron?” Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. But Emily remembered how thoroughly I flipped out with joy when she told me that she had gotten engaged. It was pretty special, since how often do you get to feel that genuinely happy for someone?
I attempted to look nice:
At the reception, the kid was refusing to dance which seemed weird to us, so we kept telling to get his booty on the dance floor. I eventually dragged him out to dance to “Shout,” explaining that it’s basically required to dance to that song at weddings. He was still unenthusiastic, to put it mildly, so I grabbed his hands and threw them in the air for him at the appropriate intervals. He screamed, “NOOOOOOOOOOO STOOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPP” the whole time, which I think confused our fellow revelers. However, about five minutes later, he was on the stage, requesting songs from the DJ and dancing like the holy spirit had gotten him.
The kid had a soccer game the next day, which ended in a tie. Our team was up 4 – 1 until suddenly their defense fell apart. So, he was upset even though he had scored a pretty magnificent goal. He was sulking, so I took action.
Kid was upset that his soccer game ended in a tie. Followed him to the car saying “penis” kind of loud. Cheered him up. Parenting win. #fb
— kdiddy (@kdiddy) September 9, 2012
Crude? Sure. Effective? Oh, hell yes.