I don't think I embarrassed myself too bad on our last night out because it hasn't spread around too far that my behavior was less than perfect; and this I know because we were invited to a lovely dinner party last weekend. This time I was prepared with my background info. I had topics in my head and a little bit of knowledge of the whole Spitzer affair that I got briefed on while we were driving to the dinner. And that definitely came in handy because it was one topic of discussion.
It's so funny how much you appreciate your children when you're not with your children. They were home with my parents and I already feared our returning home time because we weren't supposed to be there until 7pm! Can you believe that there's a ton of people who don't eat dinner before the sun goes down!? At 7pm we're elbow deep in bath water and bedtime stories normally. But I was happy to do those duties a little early on this night and have a night out involving adult conversation and alcohol.
Again I was somehow surprised at all the fire hazards that homes have where no little people live. Candles. . .how I wish to light them in a spot other than my bathtub ledge. And to own furniture that is white! I can dream. Maybe word did get out about my appetizer eating problem because they were prepared. Beautiful dishes of humus, dips, pita, golden raspberries, salsas, I could go on. And my gin and tonic wasn't so bad either. I have no clue what time we actually sat down to eat dinner because the next time I looked at my watch it was 10:45 pm. This was a lobster dinner fit for people who knew what they were doing. I'm pretty good at knowing my silverware, but when you throw in objects that look like a dentist would use them, I'm a little thrown off. I also was schooled in the art of scandinavian drinking. You'd think that since I was married to one I would be more familiar, but nope. Our hostess was from Norway and if I tried to repeat the name of the drink we had I would be further embarrassed. All I know is that we each had a mini decanter of it and a shot glass at our place setting. In that time I also learned that the buckets on the table weren't trash cans but rather they were for all the skeletal parts of the lobster than you can't consume. I think I gave away my lobster virginity when I asked what part I could eat. And maybe I gave it away also when I turned to Aaron and asked him if he wanted to eat my feet. I don't think that was very proper lobster talk. I did however really enjoy using all the fun tools that go with the meal. I was sitting between my husband and a friend, both experienced lobster eaters. When I got to the feet legs I was instructed on one side to pull it off and suck it out, and on my other side I was instructed to pull it off and use my pointy poker to jab the stuff out, needless to say. . . I was confused. And neither way worked. I got zilch out. But I did enjoy the tail and the claws. And I even asked how it was cooked, not because I wanted to look like one day I would be capable of making this meal, but because I've heard stories of the little bugger screaming when you cook them alive. I guess there were no screaming buggers on this evening.
The whole dinner was wonderful. And the Norwegian drink I'm sure made it all the more delicious. I guess we were to all drink it in unison, but I didn't know we would be doing that all throughout dinner. So after the second time around I did my shots with pellegrino. Hopefully not too many noticed. At this point I looked at my watch and saw the time, 10:45pm. And there was still a lot of cracking and sucking and poking going on. I could envision my dad, asleep on my couch, snoring, while my mom watched QVC under a blanket continuously nudging my dad to shut up and stop snoring. I also envisioned them not babysitting again for a very long time because of the horrific hour we were going to come home at. Our wonderful hosts totally understood, or maybe acted like they did, and sent us home with our dessert to go. It was a first for me, which is always exciting. Going on 28 and still having firsts is very fun. Well, I'm sure I won't be saying that about my first gray hair, my first wrinkle, my first set of dentures, but my first lobster was very exciting.