Several years ago, fifteen to be exact, I bought a bunch of party invitations. A few packages were for birthday and no particular reason parties, but the majority were for baby showers. Thankfully, someone I know finally got pregnant and I got the opportunity to use one of the packages.
With only eight invitations in the package, this limited the total number of guests. “Works for me,” Opreggano told me and added, “I don’t want a lot of people.”
Being a person who likes to be in the company of many, this was a difficult task for me. Nonetheless, I took it on and mailed out all eight of the invitations. With no additional copies for myself, and no line for RSVP, I didn’t know who would be attending and couldn’t remember what time the party would be starting.
Fortunately, Opreggano, Sleepless and That’s Not Chinese were all able to advise me of the start time. Even with this information provided, I still managed to not be showered in time for the shower.
Opreggano arrived about 30 minutes early to find me in my pajamas and listening to Mickey by Toni Basil. “I guess I should shower,” I told her. “Why? I didn’t,” she replied. “OK, I won’t. Good thing I put on makeup last night – now I don’t have to put any on today,” I said while rolling on some additional deodorant and using a scrunchie to spruce up my hair.
The other guests began to arrive, however, the guest with the most important assignment was not yet present. Nonetheless, I handed the guests their vintage crystal hospitality snack sets and advised them, “Your glasses are small, which means you’ll have to drink a lot of a little. Oh, and, the champagne is on it’s way.” Sleepless came through the door a few minutes later and MiniMe immediately asked her, “Do you have the champagne?” “No ‘hello,’ really? Just, ‘do you have the champagne?’ Yes, I have the champagne,” Sleepless replied and took the champagne out of the brown bag.
That’s Not Chinese immediately popped the cork and, unlike the RSVP, there was a line for the champagne and everyone had their little crystal ‘milk cups’ ready to go. Everyone, that is, except for Opreggano. She had her own bottle of sparkling cider, which Alice accidentally poured into her little cup of goodness. “Don’t do it, don’t drink it!” I advised her and added, “It’s sparkling cider!” Alice immediately handed me her contaminated drink and said, “Oh my God! I can’t drink this!”
It was true. Alice did what I should have done on the invitation – she drew a solid line and stood her ground. If she was going to drink a lot of a little, the only thing that she wanted to see ‘sparkling’ was the bottom of the champagne bottle once we emptied it.