Lady Fairchilde hosted a dinner party on Saturday.
It was positively maaaaah-valus!
By herself, she cooked dinner for 10 people.
She's my hero.
Her invitation did say semi-formal dress.
But Robi and I agreed that we don't get out often.
So we decided to kick it up a notch.
And we wore cocktail dresses.
Little black numbers.
You know the drill.
The Husband was stuck at home by himself.
Sucks to be you, dude.
He was a little mopey about it.
It didn't help that I kept mentioning it.
"Don't forget I'm going to Lady Fairchilde's for dinner."
"Don't forget girls' night out on Saturday."
"Don't forget you're on your own ..."
I did keep calling it a girl's dinner party.
Kept going on and on about a bunch of hens
getting together to cackle all night long.
Trying to assure him that he wasn't missing out.
Imagine the look on his face
when I come out all dolled up.
He raises his eyebrows.
"I thought you were going to dinner with the girls."
His eyebrows go up even higher.
He's beginning to question where I'm going.
I can tell.
"It's semi formal. You know Lady Fairchilde ...
Only she would have a semi-formal dinner party."
He nods, clearly unconvinced.
I'm sure it didn't help that I didn't
walk in the door until
2:30 the next morning.
Of course, I couldn't get to sleep right away.
I think I fell asleep around 3:30.
And wouldn't you know it ...
I was wide awake at 7:30.
I'm never going to get a good night's sleep.
It was totally worth it, though.
Thanks, LF, for a wonderful evening.