Banished

It's poker night. My hubby used to host such a gathering on occasion BK (before kids). This is the first time since even before I was pregnant. He and 5 pals are like little kids in a candy store (or if you're like mine, in a dollar store with your purses) only subsitute the purses with beer. The poker chips have been meticulously counted, the family room was converted from playroom to sports room including a stuffed gorilla wearing a hockey helmet on my mantle and a hockey jersey hanging on the wall where my World Map usually resides.

The guys really do have it easy, I mean REALLY. Not only do they never have to deal with menses, estrogen, The Change, or dare I say childbirth but even their get togethers are so fucking simple.

Girls Night to hang out with friends: What will we wear? How exciting! We may even don some make up and comb our hair, and wear a blouse?? (WTF is that?). Decisions about who will make and bring what dip, who will bake and bring what squares, who will bring the red, white, rosé wine, who will bring the cosmoplitans, what treats to we bring for the pregnant/bf-ing Moms, what about a hostess gift? Hmmm....then there is the assurance that childcare will be provided, yes, usually in the shape of the father, but even the Dads need a few reminders and helpful hints about who went poo on that given day or not, who ate what, are they allowed a snack, is it bath night, the jammies are in the dryer, etc.

Guys night. Jeans, t-shirt (cleanliness not an issue), beer and $20 worth of chips & pretzels and they are SO happy. OK, throw in a deck of cards and a frozen pizza in the oven. Done. No fashion issues, childcare nit-picks, they know everything and everyone will be well taken care of.

Am I complaining? Actually, I'm not! I am rather amused by it all. I already knew this, but for some reason tonight, I am getting quite a kick out of it. I am banned to the upstairs folding laundry, having a bath, reading my book, checking email, paying the bills, self-manicuring and pedicuring, the candles are lit, the cat is purring on the bed and I may even start a little project.

Perhaps it is an age thing, or a life thing, where years ago BK I never thought twice about it. But now that there are a half dozen thirty-something males, all (but one) fathers to children aged 7 and younger in my family room laughing, drinking, eating junk food, farting and making a mess, for some reason I think it is outrageously hilarious.

I think I am the big winner tonight. Ante up.