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Prelude to A Play Date

So we have this neighbor at the end of our block.  She has two sons very close in age to ours’.  She’s all-together and cool, right down to the perfect skinnies and chic boots she rocks while chasing her adorable, compliant kids up and down the block every afternoon.

Way out of our league.

(I can’t even trust Mac to walk down our street without a death grip on his sticky little fist.)

They’ve lived here as long as we have and we’ve always been neighborly but never really got to know one another.  We always said we’d get together for a drink, dinner, or a play date but the last time I made a first move on anyone was my Husband and we all know how well that turned out.

Anyway, recently, a couple of times in passing she mentioned she had organized a “very casual” playgroup and she’d email me the information.

But she didn’t.

And I sure as hell didn’t ask.

The idea of playgroup makes me sweat.  I’m borderline anti-social raising at least one of my own kind  and well, the idea seemed overwhelming, the circumstances rife for us to become the scourge of all of Canton. . .or worse. . .all of Smalltimore!

But last week, she mentioned playgroup again.  And this time she was HOSTING.

Me:  We got invited to playgroup Tuesday morning.  I don’t think we’ll be attending.

Chris:  This should be fun.

Me:  What?  How do you mean?  We aren’t going.

Chris:  The  fun part will be watching you dodge her and her family for the next decade to avoid being social.

Me:  I don’t have to avoid her.  Yes, yes, I likely will have to avoid her.

Chris:  When is it?  Tuesday?

Me:  Yes.  Do you think I should try?


Me:  I feel the flu coming on.

Chris:  So are you planning to wear skinnies, boots, and the red plaid shirt or are you just going to go with cat-hair covered black yoga pants?

Yuck it up, Chuckles.  Hope you don’t have to pee during your three hour meeting. . .HOPE YOU NEVER HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO PEE AT WORK EVA!!!!!!!!!%^&**$

So Monday wasn’t a great day.  And because I hadn’t posted here a while and because I had some stuff to get done, I made an executive decision at about 9:30 on MONDAY NIGHT to have a few drinks and plow through.

Tuesday morning, I was caught up on stuff but slightly sluggish and it was snowing.

I asked Mac if he wanted to go visiting but he said “All done with visiting neighbors.”


But then the snow let up a little and Mac asked to go outside – just about the time play group was supposed to be in full swing.

So I thought maybe we’d just pop our heads in the door and use Teddy, who was sleeping soundly in the living room, as an excuse to rush right back.

It was an excellent plan.  I could run some surveillance, see what was up without looking like a complete jerk. . .

Except when we went outside, there was perfectly tall and thin, skinny jeans, boot clad, North Face parka-wearing neighbor chasing her kids down the street, naturally blonde hair dusted with perfect snowflakes.

Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  I need an excuse.  No, I don’t.  Just tell her we couldn’t get it together.  Tell her you won’t have it together until 2025.  Do I still smell like rum?  Oh gawd, I might still reek faintly of rum.  This could work, she’ll think you were drinking at 9:30 AM NOT 9:30 PM and she’ll avoid you forever.  That’s not rum.  It’s mouthwash and hand sanitizer, you desperate booze-hound.  Think FAST. 

“Hi!” I shouted from a distance.  Come on Mac, tear off the other way. (Twisting his mitten.  . Feeling his actual fist turn the other way. . BLERGH!)

No luck.

Why is she out here if she’s hosting play group?  

We headed towards her.  I didn’t mention play group.  We exchanged pleasantries and at the end she reminded me playgroup was THURSDAY.

Oh thank gawd I wasn’t knocking on her door this, TUESDAY morning at 10 AM reeking of alcohol!!! (no matter the source).  We’d NEVER have been invited back. . .

Wait?  Do I actually WANT to try play group?!

Me to Chris over dinner:  It might be a good experience for the kids.

Chris:  You just want to see the inside of their house don’t you?

Me:  Silent [So. Busted. Know they just redid their entire kitchen. . .]

Chris:  So you’re actually going to do this?

Me:  Maybe?  I was thinking I could make some Jello Jigglers to take for a treat.

Chris:  Is that protocol?  Do you really have to take something?  What about allergies and Vegans and Kosher and you know, Jello-haters?   I wouldn’t take anything.

Me:  I. DO. NOT. KNOW.  I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE!  There’s always room for Jello. . .or Jello shots. . .No?  And you never show up empty-handed right?!

Chris:  So what you’re saying is you’re not sure you can show up in yoga pants. . .but if you do. . .Jello might make it more acceptable?

What I’m saying is me and Jurassic Jello was on like Donkey Kong.


Ever wonder what a type A psycho - who supposedly doesn't care about stuff does at 5:47AM?

Ever wonder what a type A psycho – who supposedly doesn’t care about stuff does at 5:47AM?




One Response to “Prelude to A Play Date”

  1. LOLOLOL- I’m the type who would definitely go. But I’d obsess about it and screw it up.
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