Archive for category Girls’ Night
O.K., which of you stuffed my ears with marshmallows and forced me to swallow a cheese grater? I know one of you is the culprit because there’s no other explanation for why I feel this way.
Unless I’m sick. But we don’t want to consider that possibility. Sickness is not an option when you have a million things to do while accompanied by an overactive toddler intent on performing a new death-defying stunt every 45 seconds (e.g., somersault off fireplace onto end table followed by double layout onto couch).
Multiple Choice Question: What do you do when your parenting partner goes out of town?
a) Beg for mercy.
b) Ask your mom to visit.
c) Make it easy on yourself and allow a few days of continuous cartoon-watching.
d) Invite friends over for the evenings: You supply the wine, they supply conversations that do not include the words mommy, poo poo or Idon’twantto.
I have a Girls Night In with a few friends once a month. When our nights first started we wanted to meet regularly and not have the frequency of our get-togethers decrease into nothingness slowly over time (this has been the fate of so many groups that I’ve been in, especially book clubs. Thankfully this is not a book club so we have that on our side). We got to the heart of the issue: Why do people who have fun together stop getting together? The answer: It becomes too much work with the host running around the house tidying and madly trying to figure out what to serve (oh, and that answers the book club question – there’s the added pressure of actually reading the book!). To simplify things all of our girls’ nights follow these four rules:
The hostess does not prepare any food for the guests.
The hostess provides the following, nothing more, nothing less:
- 1 bag of tortilla chips
- 1 bowl of salsa
- 1 dessert purchased at the local grocery store
The guests do the BYOB thing.
We sit outside unless the weather is truly awful (this is supposed to minimize the house-cleaning. Although, the homes of my gal-pals are always spotless when I arrive. Likewise, I fear that I would run around like a maniac, Windex and roll of paper towels in hand, even if Rule #4 was, “Guests agree to wear blindfolds for entire evening.”
OCD cleaning impulses aside, we had managed to meet fairly regularly for quite some time…until…
I was shopping for my tortilla chips, salsa and grocery-store dessert when I spotted pomegranates: Plump. Round. Scarlet. Perfect. Ohhhhh…I thought of exotic vacations…I thought of Christmas…I thought of Champagne…I thought, “Should I buy some Cava?” Mmmm….I thought you’d never ask!
Once home I extracted the seeds from the fruit (why don’t chefs warn, “Wear an apron and cover entire kitchen in newspaper,” BEFORE they advise, “Whack the pomegranate hard with a wooden spoon to dislodge the seeds?” *sigh*) and fed a third of them to my toddler for a snack. Another third were placed in the fridge to get cold. The final third went into a fine mesh sieve over a bowl where I mashed the juice out of them using the back of a wooden spoon. The small bowl of juice went beside the seeds in the fridge to chill out.