This past weekend I attended a party in honour of my aunt, Flossie Belle, & uncle's anniversary. Lovely setting: an old lodge deep in the hills of nowhere near a lake. This was to be a touching tribute to this wonderful couple who have been through 50+ years of marriage. But there were a few snafus.
First of all, the lovely former bride was not feeling in the party spirit at all. She had suspected her daughter was planning something for her and she had gave me strict orders to put a stop to any festivities. She left me with the direst warning, "you better not let her do anything stupid. My 50th anniversary was 2 years ago and there ain't no sense in pretending it's now. All my friends will know, every one knows. Now you do you hear me?"
Problem was Pippi wasn't clued in about anything until it was way too late.
Exactly 7 days before the scheduled event, my cousin notified me via Facebook she was planning a party for them. A date, time, and place was all I knew. Well, it had been a few weeks since my aunt had had her "spell" (spell=hissy fit, stubborn mule personality, etc.) and foolishly I thought she was probably over it by now.
Two days later my cousin called me. She explained what she was doing. I questioned her about her mother's health and she reassured me she was fine, that she had even took the girls home with her for the week.
My cousin gave me the instruction to pick out a cake for the party. She gave me specifics of which included, "and for God's sake, don't get any of those tacky plastic figurines". Ok. I made a note of the instructions and set about the rest of the day. Except my phone rang again, this time it was Flossie Belle.
"Pippisnickerdoodlesky, listen here missy. Mary Belle just asked me for your phone number and you better remember what I told you, there'll be none of this here party nonsense. I don't want it, ya hear me??"
Oh, I heard her loud and clear alright. Once again Pippi is caught in the middle of a good ole fashioned family feud.
Fast forward to 2 days before the party. One future party attendee requested more info about said shin dig including attire and price list. My dear cousin, Mary Belle, texted back with casual attire and no cost to attendees. Ok. I can handle this I think. No big deal. Something nice, relaxing, family gathering; Flossie Belle could muddle through this without too much fuss, I hoped.
Now, I should have known better. My dear misguided cousin, Mary Belle, she and I were nowhere near on the same wave length. Her estimate of 20 people was in actuality closer to a party of 50. The cake I had ordered was not large enough. But that was the least of the most embarrassing points of this gathering.
Mary Belle and I are both college educated (believe it or not); Mary Belle slightly more so than I considering she is a teacher. Yet her definition and my understanding of the term "casual" are complete opposite.
Since my oldest son was unavailable to accompany me, I coerced my youngest son, Scooter, to replace him. I told him it would be fun, there would be free food. So, Scooter decided to wear his best ragged jeans, his favorite t-shirt which asked the question, how long had he been out of his mind (the entire time), and flip flops. Me, I was wearing my favorite pair of capri jeans, a short sleeved empire waisted cotton shirt with a flowery pattern and my totally off the wall black/purple/orange Nike tennis shoes.
As Scooter, and I made our way to the entrance of the lodge we were greeted by Flossie Belle and Mary Belle. They were dressed for attendance at a black tie affair. Flossie Belle was wearing a lovely peach ensemble with nude pumps. She was wringing her hands while she complained to Mary Belle (who was wearing a lovely off white brides-maid type dress and her auburn hair done up in a low back combed style with loose ringlet curls). Once Flossie Belle spotted me, it was all over for Pippi.
"You, you young lady. I told you to put a stop to this nonsense. It is all your fault and look at you! What on earth are you wearing?"
Twisting my lips up in a warped pucker I glanced quickly over my shoulder at Scooter and rolled my eyes. As if she could sense what I was doing, Flossie Belle took her handbag and slapped my arm. "Answer me! You didn't stop this party. Why not? And for goodness sake what is that you've got on?"
"Well, Flossie Belle, it seems to me that your daughter is a fully grown adult who has a mind of her own. Not only did she not inform me of this party until a few days ago but she also said that we all should dress casually." "Casual is one thing but you look like something the cat drug in; don't you have any better clothes than those?" Flossie Belle sniffed, "Well, at least Scooter shaved but he should have had a hair cut."
In an effort to avoid what was surely going to turn into a scene, my uncle, John Bob, took Flossie Belle by the elbow and directed her to the door of the lodge. As I turned to follow them in my other cousin, the one with the question about attire, snuck up behind me and said, "Didn't she say it was casual?" I nodded my head affirmatively, "Yeah, but I guess Mary Belle's Webster's has a different answer than mine". "It will be ok; we will just be the redneck side of the family". She grabbed my arm and we went through the door.
For the next 2 hours, 15 of my family members, all seated at the same table, stuck out like sore thumbs in a room filled with well dressed people. Thank goodness this particular bunch of relatives are more along the line of practical jokers so they just laughed it off. But I wasn't so lucky. Not only was I dressed wrong but Mother Nature being how fickle she is took advantage of the overcrowded/overheated room to maximize the effects of her hot flash capabilities.
As I tried to snap pictures of the attendees, sweat poured down my back. At one point as I was leaning over speaking to a wonderful lady from my aunt's church, several large drops of sweat fell from my forehead and onto her lap. I tried to dab the wetness with one of the napkins but ended up just leaving little pieces of white paper all over her lavender pants.
But I must say, the crowning touch was the fact I had forgotten the parents of my first true love were also really good friends with my aunt and uncle. What I had never dreamed of was seeing them for the first time, in over 30 years, at a party for family. Yes, there I was, looking like a bag lady who had been caught in the middle of a spring thunderstorm. I was never more sure of anything than I am after that night they went home and thanked their lucky stars I never became their daughter-in-law!
And so, my legend lives on. Not only did I not stop a party, but I managed to order the wrong size of cake, wear the wrong kind of clothes, sweat worse than a monkey in the Sahara, all while attempting to be a well composed adult in front of the most intimidating couple I know.
Come along little black cloud; I have missed you. What's that? Oh, you have a family now! Great. Sure, why not bring them too.
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