So all last week, I kept thinking there was something significant about November 4th, and then remembering I was going to Andrea's baby shower outside Philly. It's also Kelly and Michael's first wedding anniversary, which... Was that year FAST, or what? I sent a card on time, but totally forgot to call until today.
But anyway... As it turns out, November 4th was also the date that 10 pieces of museum-quality, elegantly-framed, ready-to-hang photographs were due at the Arts Alliance Winter Sale that Joel and I are participating in, (a.k.a trying to hock for cash.) Sleep is overrated!
So I stayed up until 2 a.m. getting our work ready to show, and then got to the gallery space right when it opened. It should have left me just enough time to make it to the shower fashionably late, which started at 1:30 p.m. in another state. I was actually alright time-wise, but I hit every damn red light between the Turnpike exit and Andrea's parents' house... 1:55 p.m....less than fashionable... Lower State Road becomes Limekiln Pike... had to turn around... damn damnedty damn... finally, the right road!
Now, in my defense at this next part... I've only been to Andrea's parents' house twice. Once between her wedding and reception five years ago, and once about two years after that. They live in a lovely development where the houses come in approximately four styles.
I pulled onto their street, like 40 minutes late, and saw cars lined up outside a house with light blue balloons on the mailbox. Score! I got out of my car, swapped my sneakers for high heeled boots, grabbed my camera and the present. Another guest, a man in his thirties, was walking up to the house.
He sorted of smiled at me in that "you look familiar" way, and I smiled back. He had red hair. This was a family party, and anyway, my expectant friend has red hair. I also recalled from her wedding that her husband's best man was his very close friend who has five brothers. They all live nearby, so I thought maybe we'd met at the wedding.
He says, "I bet they're out back" and walks into the backyard. Um, okay... But you know what? If anyone would host a harvest party shower and rent patio warmers, it would be Andrea's mom. Nope, no one out there. "We can probably just walk right in," Familiar-Looking Man says.
"Okay, I guess," I said, smiling and following him into the garage. We walk into the kitchen and Vivaldi's Spring movement is playing. That's totally baby shower music. "They're probably in the basement," Familiar-Looking Man said. Whoa. What? "It's a soccer party," he said, puzzling at my expression.
Me: "Baby shower?"
FLM: "Soccer party?"
It was like that moment in "The Sixth Sense" where Bruce Willis realizes he's been dead since the opening scene, and he's all "My stomach is bleeding! There's a table in front of the door with the red doorknob that I haven't been able to open! My wife can't see me!" Except for me, it was, "Where is the Irish blessing stenciled over the kitchen cabinets? Where is Zoe the golden retriever? Why are there photos of 10-year-olds on the fridge?" I gave Increasingly-Less-Familar-Looking-Man my most winning smile and said, "I'm totally in the wrong house." I turned on my heel and strode confidently out the door.
WHO DOES THIS?!?! Who? Apparently, me.
I got back in the car and drove down the street where another house (also with a three-step stoop in front, a 3-car garage on the side and a gazebo at the top of the driveway) was having a party, already in progress. You see more photos from the party here.
Andrea is the cutest pregnant lady ever. You know, since Kristen. :)
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