And then I decided to invite myself over to my parents’ place for dinner, since we were bringing them so much gluten-free loot anyway. (By “us” I mean CJ and I and Ben.)
It turned out my parentals were hosting a birthday party that night for someone I’ve met once and Ben and CJ have never met.
We crashed it.
(Fay had another party to go to, because that’s how she rolls. She’s decided she wants to fit bras for a living, and has been giving detailed practice consultations for inebriated girls she’s never met before.)
Since this is Canberra, it turned out that the birthday guest of honour had once been in the same room as CJ and Ben (at my wedding) – and used to work with Ben’s father.
We ate and drank and stuffed our faces with applie pie and gluten-free chocolate cake. I brought “Pirate’s Cove” and played a game with my parents, in which the winner changed twice in the final turn (due to a mighty battle roll of 666, and a tempting wench who stole half my treasure). It was fantastic.
And that, my friends, is how you do THAT. Assuming you’re not into bra consultations for inebriated girls you’ve never met before (which, whatever you may think, I’m not).
Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuure…
Ben: You’re just jealous because. . . because. . . oh. Can’t think of anything.