My neighborhood association throws an annual ladies' Christmas cocktail party at the local country club. The whole thing has a definite Desperate Housewives vibe to it. I admit to finding it all very amusing and planned to attend more for the amusement and snark value than anything else.
I was pleasantly surprised this evening to find the party, well, nice. The women were friendly and kind. We each donated an item for a silent auction and in two hours raised over 1200$ for charity. There were appetizers to nibble, wine to gulp and gossip to share. I didn't find one thing to snark over. Not a thing. (Okay, maybe just one thing. I had to giggle over the gaggle of women who moved as a collective group and looked exactly alike with their bleached blond hair, fancy jeans with sparkly tops and size zero frames. I swear I couldn't tell one from the other.)
I even managed to bid and win on an elaborately decorated gingerbread house for the boys to make up for our attempt at a gingerbread house that had some, well to put it mildly, construction issues. I am leaving it on the table to surprise them at breakfast. Elves deliver gingerbread houses to good little boys. It's a new Santa service.
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