Party Hearty: NOT

Last night was Hubby's annual Chamber of Commerce Christmas Party. Oh, joy. Every year, for as long as I can remember, we have to dress up in our fancy clothes and head north to a local casino where we dine and nosh and drink and nibble and hob knob with the other business folk. To say I dread this every year is a huge understatement.

To begin with, we are always late. This is because hubby works a long, long way from home. He will leave work - drive for an hour to come home and pick me up - and then we drive for an hour to arrive at the party. Now, you could say, "Drama Queen - why don't you just meet him at the party and save the driving time?" That is a good and practical suggestion, but Dear Hubby will not allow it. No, siree - he is very gallant and very charming and insists on treating the Drama Queen like a Queen - which means picking her up in his carriage and making sure she's safe and warm and protected and not driving the streets alone at night. So - he will drive. End of story.

Once we arrive - because we're late - the party goers have pretty much ravaged the buffet. However, if Hubby and I are able to somehow put together a plate of food from the leftovers - there's never anywhere left to sit. This necessitates standing, holding your drink in one hand, your plate of food in the other - and trying to figure out how you will eat said food when you have no free hands. I've joked that one year I will seriously begin eating the food like my dog does - but Hubby doesn't find that amusing. But seriously - there's nothing more frustrating than looking at a plate of cold, soggy appetizers and wondering how you're going to get them into your mouth.

And besides the wonderful, delicious food to enjoy - there's always the company. Now, don't get me wrong- I love people as much as the next person - but I do not know these people. And I have nothing in common with these people. And they want to talk business. And frankly, honestly? I don't care two hoots about their business. It's their business. Not my business. And that's the way it should stay.

About a week ago, I launched "Operation Skip the Chamber Party". This was a new, secret plan I had been devising for weeks - and I just knew that my plans would get me out of going to the party this year.

So - very casually at dinner one night, I said, "Hubby - I've been thinking...and I really, really think that by coming home to take me to the Party necessitates a lot of unnecessary driving on your part. I really think it's more practical if you would just go straight to the Party this year from work - and don't worry about little 'ole me. I'll be just fine here at home with the kiddies. THAT way, you won't have cold, soggy appetizers - and you'll actually be able to sit down and eat them. With your hands. The way God intended it and all."

I sat back with a smug smile - how could he argue with the logic of it all? The perfectness of it all? It was beautiful.

Hubby looked at me - in horror - and said, "Well - actually, this year I have a big meeting on the east side of town (close to where we live.) So - it's perfect this year - I'll just swing by home after the meeting - and pick you up. I know how much you love these parties - I wouldn't want you to miss it."

DRAT! Foiled. Okay - time to rethink Phase 2 of "Operation Skip the Chamber Party." Twenty-four hours later, I launched it. But first - a little background. Hubby has a co-worker, Ken. Ken always goes to these Chamber parties, too. Ken is married to Barbie. Barbie used to go to the Party, but somehow has been lucky enough to miss it the last 2 years. I should have been talking to her, learning her strategy, but we really never talk - except for when we were both stuck at the annual Chamber party. But - on with the story.

Same scene: at dinner. I casually begin, "Hubby - I've been thinking...and I've noticed that Barbie hasn't been at the Party the last 2 years. And she was really the only person I talked to - and actually looked forward to talking to. So - I think that since Barbie won't be there - it's probably best if I'm not there, either."

I sat back with a smug smile - how could he argue with the logic of it all? The perfectness of it all? It was beautiful.

He didn't say anything; he just nodded his head and kept eating.

Wednesday night, he arrives home from work and says, "Guess who's going to the Party this year?" I looked at him in horror. Don't say it. Don't you dare say it. He said it. "Barbie! I talked with Ken - and he said Barbie's coming this year. Isn't that great?"

DRAT! Foiled again. And poor Barbie. Apparently, her strategy was foiled this year, as well.

Thursday morning, the day of the party: I wake up and head to the shower, as usual. Now - I am not conscious before my shower. I could have grown 2 extra heads over night and sprouted a tail and my skin could have turned purple with pink polka dots - and I would not know it until after my shower.

After my shower, I step out to dry off, and I immediately cough. Sneeze. Sniff. Cough again. Sneeze again. And think, "Wow. I'm sick. Great."

After about a second of processing this, and processing how this would affect my day, I remembered the Party. And I said, with much more enthusiasm and gusto this time, "WOW! I'm sick! Great!!!!"

The ironic thing? When hubby got home from work last night, he walked in and went, "Cough. Sneeze. Sniff. Cough again."

Yup - he was sick, too.

Poor Ken and Barbie. Sorry we missed the Chamber Party. We were both sick. "Operation Skip the Chamber Party" was a flying success. If it you can call it a success when we're both in bed by 7:30 p.m. last night.

Peace.