Friday, May 2, 2008
My friend Carrie just had her fourth and final baby. His name is Buck and how stinkin' cute is that? Really cute, and evidence that a husband can have an opinion on the name of their child when it's number four and there are drugs involved.
What also comes along with number four is a really fun sip-and-see that is less about the onsies and diapers and more about fellowship, fun conversation, and cupcakes.
Last night we had the privilege of celebrating Buck and Carrie, and four babies, and a night off from the babies, and did I mention the cupcakes. Delicious.
The theme was Cupcakes and Champagne...or Champagne and Cupcakes, I'm not sure. You see, it's not that I wasn't totally interested in the finer details of the party, it's just that when you have a friend like Gini Florer, who is apparently very popular because her google searches end up on my blog weekly, you tend to become a worker bee. That designation is just fine with me.
Every detail was covered and she had assignments for us all down to who would fill the punch bowl and who would open the champagne. That was my job because I'm so strong. Well, not really, but mainly because no one else wanted to be held responsible if anyone was over-served.
It all came off beautifully and to the naked eye, without a hitch. That would be without a hitch if you didn't include Jennifer showing up early and pretty darn proud of herself for being the first one on the scene until she realized she was at the wrong house. She had to call the guest of honor to find out where the party she was hosting was being held.
And what about Carey who was at the grocery store at 6:15 in sweats, no make-up and her hair in a ponytail without a care in the world...until she realized she also was hosting a party for her best friend across town in 45 minutes.
Or the person, who will remain unnamed who arrived early enough to help but forgot to eat dinner so, after realizing the champagne on an empty stomach was going to take me, I mean her, down an unfortunate path continued to sneak in Gini's pantry all night and eat an entire bag of cheetos. Gini doesn't cook so the options were pretty limited.
We wiped water rings off of tables with the hems of our dresses, shot corks into the neighbors yard and hosted vigorously in an effort to earn points with Gini who can be, um, particular. We saw old friends, new friends and celebrated with great joy another member of our extended family.
I'm still feeling those Cheetos this morning.