Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Social Debut

Well last weekend I had my first social outing in Orlando. Even though it was a really nice evening, and the people we met were welcoming and warm, I am not entirely sure I would call it a success. Let's recap:

The event was the annual Christmas Party for My Chef's work. It was at his boss' house. I think it was 8 employees and their families.  The invitation came about a month ago and was on cute holiday stationary and mentioned something about BBQ and casual and to bring your kids. Perfect. Any event with BBQ is within my comfort zone, so I mark the calendar with a fun star.

The night of the big event, I brushed my hair and spent quite a bit of time debating what to wear. I had a button down shirt on and some slacks. Then I remembered. BBQ. Casual. So I switched to jeans and a some kind of shirt. I am sure if video taped, I could have landed on What Not To Wear. (Which BTW- I am not-so-secretly hoping to get on that show.) Our children are sporting cute, yet comfortable clothes that I think they will be fine sleeping in, since we will be late getting home.

As we pull up to the house, My Chef points out a co-worker getting out of her car. She's wearing slacks and a sparkly shirt. The dread starts to creep in. Then, he points out another person walking down towards us. She's in a dress suit! I debate not getting out of the car. But the visions of shredded pork and cobbler were too much to bear. I tell myself that surely the other people with kids will be much more casual.

We are greeted at the door by the lady of the house. She's wearing a dress and pantyhose. I've never been to a casual event where the hostess was wearing pantyhose. Next up, a pregnant lady in her 8th month, wearing high heels. I hear children and think that I will just play with them in the game room the whole night. But sure enough, there's an 8 year old boy with more gel in his hair than I've ever even owned. And a pair of twins that look like they walked off the cover of Macy's Christmas Dress catalog.  Suddenly, we are the kind of people who show up to a wedding wearing blaze orange hunting gear.  I may have nodded too quickly when asked if I would like a glass of wine.

I decide that I will try to make up for my lack of dress etiquette by being super charming. I approach a small group of women, assuming they are talking about their children only to find myself in a discussion about what's next on their plates for cosmetic procedures.  I decide this probably isn't the best time for me to be charming. I wind up talking with the pregnant lady who also just moved from Minnesota. MY PEOPLES! She laughs at my first joke, so I do not leave her alone.

Then mid way through dinner, my sweet little Bear Cub bumbles over so I can get a whiff of her pants. It just doesn't seem like it would be a normal outing if I didn't end up in the bathroom with some sort of debate going on in my head. Do I leave the stinky diaper in the trash can and try to cover it up with wads of tissue? Do I just chuck it into my diaper bag to take home leaving the bag to stink up whatever room I  stash it in?  Do I walk across the house, leaving a trail of green smoldering stench in my wake, to ask the hostess where I should toss it?

I curse myself for not having a more organized diaper bag- equipped with mini trash bags, or zip locks or fancy sparkly shirts and a copy of Cosmo.  Maybe next time. Hopefully, next time.

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