I have blogged in the past about my general feelings about wine and cheese. I don't hate wine. I just have not yet acquired a taste for it. Someone needs to tell my HotHusband that $5 bottles from CVS Pharmacy do not make for great tasting wine. On the other hand, I do hate cheese. My mom used to say "never say hate" but I can safely admit that I hate cheese.
Which leads me an invitation that I received in the mail last week for an event on August 21.
That's the day after my eldest offspring's first day of high school. This will be his first experience in private catholic school. He has to wear a white button down shirt, blue pants with a logo at 25 bucks a pop, penny loafers, a tie and a belt. No more shorts down to the ankle showing any kind of butt crack. That night there is going to be a social event for the parents of incoming freshman...a wine and cheese social! Great. I hate cheese and I don't care for wine. I should have a great time.
I want to go. I have to go. I need to go. This is my chance to kiss up, er...get to know, the teachers. It's my chance to meet the other children who are also pulling at their clothes wondering how in the world they went from oversized shorts that showed off the latest in underwear boxers to blue pleated "you may as well pin me with a sign that says big square is here" pants . It's my chance to gain invitation into the mom cliques.
Wait. I just thought of something. I am starting to feel the very same anxieties as when I, myself, started high school. Except this time I am 25 years older and a lot wiser!
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