We here at Diary of a Mom interrupt our usual programming for a special announcement.
In five ..
Here it is, folks ..
I need an intervention.
OK, so perhaps that wasn’t news to many of you. Or most of you. Or any of you.
And despite my belief that God invented Lillet to show His infinite love for us (or, at the very least me), I don’t mean THAT kind of intervention. The twelve step kind can wait.
No, I need a whole different kind of help. Call it a desperate need for restraint. Perhaps a muzzle would do.
The conversation went something like this …
“Hey, Jess, the PTO is doing a fundraiser.”
Distracted, sipping at a glass of happiness Lillet (on the rocks, heavy spalsh of water, no fruit – just in case you ever want to pour me one) – “Great, sounds good, hon. I know y’all will knock em dead.” (Luau is the president of the PTO)
“We’re doing an “Around the World’ progressive dinner.”
Takes another gulp delicate sip of Lillet – “Oh, sounds cool. What’s that?”
“Hmm, I’m not completely sure. But basically I think each couple hosts a part of the meal at their house and then heads on out to other houses for the rest of the meal. Everyone antes in to raise money and it’s a great community building exercise. What better way to get to know neighbors and classmates?”
Downs the remaining Lillet in the glass, re-fills said glass – “SIGN US UP! SOUNDS FABULOUS!”
This is a cry for help, people. Can you not see the warning flag in this desperate act? OY!
So, just to be clear, I now have three groups of ten people arriving at my house IN SHIFTS on Saturday night for hors d’oeuvres. We don’t go anywhere. That whole part about heading on out? Not so much. Other people’s houses? Nope. We wait. At home. For thirty people. To arrive in shifts.
Shoot me now.
Bless his heart, Luau starts to get ambitious – “Hey, babe, why don’t we go for Japanese? Or Russian?” Isn’t that dear? He wants to honor our heritages. “Dude My love, are you honestly under the impression that I’m going to make friggin borscht? Reeeeeally? Are you going to start rollin sushi?”
“Wait, Luau, I’ve got it!!” Cracking myself up – “Do these people have a sense of humor? You know them better than I do, but seriously, I think this is really funny. Ready? We do AMERICAN. I’ll serve Velveeta on Ritz crackers! Pigs in a blanket! Twinkies! Cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon! Are you writing this down? This is genius.”
I laugh so hard I nearly pee myself while Luau patiently waits until I am quite done.
Shaking his head ever so slightly – “Yeah, um, no. So, Japan? Russia?”
OK, say what you want, I’m copping out. If I can’t have American (which I still think is funny!) I’m going with French. I’m ordering a Fondue-to-go from the local caterers, throwing some en-croute over a big ole wheel of Brie and rustling up a serving platter worth of pate, cornichons and some grainy, French looking mustard with sliced baguette. Maybe I’ll even throw a French flag or two on the cheese. (I tried to sneak in some FRENCH fries, but Luau didn’t even snigger.)
Thank God Lillet is French.