So I was suckered into one of those hostess parties. One of those, come on over for a sampling of snacks and some cocktails while you buy stuff and I get some free dip mix parties. I’ve only hosted one other party like this in my life and it was an open house for a local lady that makes her own scrumptious soaps and bath products and that was like ten years ago – which is neither here nor there and now I’m just blabbering. Anyway…with this party you receive a kit to make most of the dips that are served, a bread and a pound cake. Nothing is difficult, but naturally, being prone to shirking all commitments – I totally regretted the decision to hostess.

Fast forward to the Tuesday evening before the party. I’m checking my kit because if I’m not just prone to shirking commitments – I also am a complete misplacer of items. A loser, for lack of a better word. I leave the mixes on the loveseat, on top of my knitting bag, which they promptly slide behind. Eh, whatever, I think – everything’s there, I’ll food shop tomorrow after work and whip up the stuff while the husband plays hockey. It’s the Eh, Whatevers I should watch out for. Every time I think that I should just stop and do just the opposite of Eh, Whatever. Like maybe picking up the bag of mixes and putting them away.

My son comes home from school on Wednesday and calls me.

“There’s white powder all over the living room floor!!”, he says.

Me: ??? Mind racing, What did I leave out?? Flour? Nope. Sugar? Nope. Baby Powder…would the dog eat powder? Nope. Six kilos of fine Columbian cocaine? Hmmm. (As if I’m not kidding).

So I ask if there’s anything else…

“Well”, he says…”your party stuff…”



The dog was apparently unable to resist the beer bread, almond pound cake, garlic, chipolte and onion dips and the key lime cheese cake mix. He destroyed the bags they were in, spread them all over the carpet and licked them until they made a flour like paste that adhered itself to my rug upon drying. Which, then I absent mindedly wet down with rug cleaner because I couldn’t scrape it up. So it was a poison filled paste that had to be shampooed up immediately because as soon as the dog came in the house he’d be licking that mix up until the carpet wore away.

The lady clearly didn’t think I was telling the truth until I jokingly showed her these. The evidence.

When will I learn?