Last night I had an old friend over to see the new place and have some girl time. I took a little extra care to make a nice spread for us - a few delicious cheeses and sausage with rice crackers, red quinoa sushi, mediterranean dip and falafel chips, and some red, red wine. I banished the dogs to the basement (everyone except Amelia who had already put herself to bed for the night) and set everything out on my new serving tray on the coffee table. I lit a few candles. It was lovely, really. *Hostess fist pump - YEAH!*
Then someone woke up.
I returned from a quick house tour and invited my friend to sit down to eat.
"I am SO excited for you to try this sush..." I trailed off, looking around for wherever I had placed the sushi as it was no longer on the serving dish.
The wheels began turning.
"It's gone! It's gone! The sushi's gone!"
Amelia poked her head out from behind the couch, looking sheepish but also brat-ily licking her lips.
I'll admit it: some expletives were said/screamed, some unpleasantries were exchanged between me and my sweet, sleepy eight-year-old baby. She just looked at me, so proud of herself.
Then I noticed the cheese - or lack thereof.
A nice sliver of herbed brie, a big ole' chunk of smoked cheddar, half of a summer sausage - all gone, too. The serving dish bare. G*%%A$(& Amelia!!!!!!!!!!
In short, my dog had a $22 dinner last night. No biggie.
All I can say is that I HAD a nice spread, plenty of food, for my dear friend. But by the end of the evening, I was offering her leftovers from the night before. So far I am really nailing the hostess with the mostess thing, aren't I?
Icing on the cake: Amelia whimpered and sighed with an upset stomach all the live-long night.
Ah, the joys of dog ownership.