vive la france

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We here at Diary of a Mom interrupt our usual programming for a special announcement.

In five ..

Four ..

Three ..

Two ..

One ..

Here it is, folks ..

I need an intervention.

OK, so perhaps that wasn’t news to many of you. Or most of you. Or any of you.

Fine.

And despite my belief that God invented Lillet to show His infinite love for us (or, at the very least me), I don’t mean THAT kind of intervention. The twelve step kind can wait.

For now.

No, I need a whole different kind of help. Call it a desperate need for restraint. Perhaps a muzzle would do.

The conversation went something like this …

“Hey, Jess, the PTO is doing a fundraiser.”

Distracted, sipping at a glass of happiness Lillet (on the rocks, heavy spalsh of water, no fruit – just in case you ever want to pour me one) – “Great, sounds good, hon. I know y’all will knock em dead.” (Luau is the president of the PTO)

“We’re doing an “Around the World’ progressive dinner.”

Takes another gulp delicate sip of Lillet – “Oh, sounds cool. What’s that?”

“Hmm, I’m not completely sure. But basically I think each couple hosts a part of the meal at their house and then heads on out to other houses for the rest of the meal. Everyone antes in to raise money and it’s a great community building exercise. What better way to get to know neighbors and classmates?”

Downs the remaining Lillet in the glass, re-fills said glass – “SIGN US UP! SOUNDS FABULOUS!”

This is a cry for help, people. Can you not see the warning flag in this desperate act? OY!

So, just to be clear, I now have three groups of ten people arriving at my house IN SHIFTS on Saturday night for hors d’oeuvres. We don’t go anywhere. That whole part about heading on out? Not so much. Other people’s houses? Nope. We wait. At home. For thirty people. To arrive in shifts.

Shoot me now.

Bless his heart, Luau starts to get ambitious – “Hey, babe, why don’t we go for Japanese? Or Russian?” Isn’t that dear? He wants to honor our heritages. “Dude My love, are you honestly under the impression that I’m going to make friggin borscht? Reeeeeally? Are you going to start rollin sushi?”

Heeeeeeelllllpppppp me!

“Wait, Luau, I’ve got it!!” Cracking myself up - “Do these people have a sense of humor? You know them better than I do, but seriously, I think this is really funny. Ready? We do AMERICAN. I’ll serve Velveeta on Ritz crackers! Pigs in a blanket! Twinkies! Cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon! Are you writing this down? This is genius.”

I laugh so hard I nearly pee myself while Luau patiently waits until I am quite done.

Shaking his head ever so slightly –  “Yeah, um, no. So, Japan? Russia?”

OK, say what you want, I’m copping out. If I can’t have American (which I still think is funny!) I’m going with French. I’m ordering a Fondue-to-go from the local caterers, throwing some en-croute over a big ole wheel of Brie and rustling up a serving platter worth of pate, cornichons and some grainy, French looking mustard with sliced baguette. Maybe I’ll even throw a French flag or two on the cheese. (I tried to sneak in some FRENCH fries, but Luau didn’t even snigger.)

Thank God Lillet is French.

Please.

Send.

Help.

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25 thoughts on “vive la france

  1. sorry, honey, but you might want to start rolling that sushi, i’m going to jenn’s.

    hey, jenn, got any lillet?

  2. Gotta say, I’m with Luau. I vote for Japanese–it’s by *far* the easiest. Order trays of sushi (you can get them from whole foods), edemame, and if you want to do something hot you can do steamed dumplings that you get from Trader Joe’s. It will look far less picked over by the time the third group gets there, too (The brie on the other hand…oy!). You can serve sake or kirin.

    Good luck, let us know, and great fundraiser idea! The grown up version of a pub crawl!

  3. all right .. update ..

    drama, that’s not right .. it’s so not right it’s wrong. but it does explain why it took four calls to find a fondue server. dang.

    i abandoned the brie plan .. didn’t work with the shifts (as y’all noticed)

    i’m going with the fondue (never looks any different than it started), sliced tenderloin canapes with creme fraiche (that’s TWO french words for those of you who are keeping count), mini quiche tartlets and pate

    and now, i need a nap

  4. oh maggie .. that’s genius .. wonder if that would have put him over the edge – green jello with floating canned peaches .. ok, this might be my next fundraiser .. i’m loving this

    and jo – “Pate is more polarizing.” i just snorted

  5. THIS Saturday night?

    This post is so hilarious…because I can just imagine this conversation between you two!

    Have fun…I kinda’ liked the American idea, too.

    French…maybe three smaller wheels of brie for each group so it doesn’t look all mangled by the end of the night.

    xoxoxo to both of you!

  6. I think your idea of “American” food is hysterical. You are just missing one key food group – Jello – it is fun to watch it wiggle. If my Grandmother had velvetta and Jello on the table together it had to be time for a party in the midwest.

  7. I vote American.. and it is really funny!! I must add you forgot the cheese in a can with Ritz crackers. (giggle, giggle) LUCK and LOVE

  8. My prediction: You’ll be enjoying a lot of D’Artagnan Pate De Campagne with your Lillet next week. Bon Appetit.

  9. Honey.

    Wish I could help but I still haven’t learned my lesson in this department, despite PLENTY of opportunities to practice saying NO!

    Get ‘em all liquored up and the food is secondary. That’s my advice.

    And oh, yea, the American food is funny.

  10. Having attended my share of interventions, I’m thinking we can have a mini-meeting right here, right now.

    Repeat after me the following phrase that will change your life: “No, I can’t do it, but thanks for asking me.”

    Intervention accomplished

  11. You have a nice house and a good mate and presumably there is food available. That’s the great thing about an unscale area like (deleted) . . . food is just laying there, waiting to be bought and served. Unlike out here, where it must be shot on the hoof or pulled out of the ground.

    You will be fine.

    Did you see this shabby story about the publicity-hungry prosecutors and my Aspergian son’s day in court? It’s on my blog here. Any parent with a different kid should read and ponder this . . . it could happen anywhere.

    http://jerobison.blogspot.com/2009/05/cubbys-day-in-court.html

    Stop by and leave a comment if you have a moment.

    Woof

  12. So sorry! But lucky for me, I’ll get to be part of the shifts that come and enjoy the Lillet. (Did I say shift? You know were hanging out and not leaving!)

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