A few days ago, my friend Jen called and told me about a great video she had stumbled across on parenting. She said that it was old, dating all the way back to the eighties, but that she had found some of the suggestions really helpful and had already put them to use in her family. Thinking that it's always good to pass on great info, she was organizing a night for several moms to get together to watch it. Since I am always one step away from a CPS intervention, I desperately wanted to attend. We moved it to my house since Brad is at school Tuesday nights and so last night, with a freshly baked zuchinni bread ready to serve, I waited for everyone to show up.
A bunch of mommies arrived in their PJs and we settled onto the couch to be enlightend. The video, in its practically prehistoric state, was on a VHS of all things and I panicked slightly wondering if I could dust off the VCR and get it working. Turns out, I couldn't so this great night of parenting advice became an evening of chit chat among friends. Usually when this happens, it's one of my very favorite things because I love my friends and having the chance to talk to them.
Here's what's weird: the conversation that took place over the next few hours was the STRANGEST OF MY LIFE. For starters, I think we spent a full 1 hour and 45 minutes on the state of health care in America, or more specifically, prescription plans and the evil spawn of Satan that is "The Drug Companies." I thought it was a topic we would touch on briefly, but it went on and on and on. I found myself looking at the other mommies and wondering if they actually found this interesting. Was I really sitting in my family room, I wondered, or had I magically been dropped into the middle of an AARP convention in Kansas? It was bizarre. The only thing missing was Wilford Brimley as our keynote speaker.
Some other highlights of the evening include one husband's battle with plantar's warts, the type of apples best used in pie filling and the conspiracy theorist Kevin Trudeau. So sorry you missed it.
I love my friends dearly, really I do, but if I have to go through another random night of crazy conversation, I might just call up one of those drug companies and order a lethal dose of OxyContin.