OK, so it was a catered potluck that we went to tonight. Who caters a potluck Well, I would if I could…
A whole brownstone…
My kid was obsessed with the pogo stick and got up to 14 jumps, a household record apparently.
Someone named Kathy, the godmother of one of my kid’s First Communion classmates, knows a friend of mine from highschool in Montana, also named Kathy… (“Tell her ‘hi’ for me !’ ‘I will!’) Others at the party had spent time in Missoula back in the day…
I played “Who Do You Know” at the party better than my husband who didn’t even try because he didn’t feel like he had to socialize because the event had nothing to do with his job. How come men don’t feel like they have to do this? Lots of my friends have husbands who, given the choice, would rather stay home. Isn’t anybody else curious about seeing the inside of other people’s homes???
At the park in the afternoon the Kid and I ran into neighbors we hadn’t seen in a very long time. It’s true, once the kids go to school, and to different schools we don’t see the people we used to see on an almost daily basis because we took our toddlers and preschoolers to the same playgrounds and chatted about potty training and language aquisition–and husbands, and junk food, and movies and assorted frustrations. The kids are big now. Aside from height, they look now the way they will look until puberty. They have their own schedules, after school activities, lessons, obsessions. At the party tonight the kids segregated themselves into groups of boys and girls. They didn’t used to do that. Sigh.