Honestly, I must have missed the memo. Somewhere in between the 23 emails from Sky Zone asking that i drag my kids, in the heat, to jump on their trampolines and the 400 reminder notes begging me to come back to Weight Watchers, I must have missed her memo. I had no idea. I didn't see it. I swear. So tonight I went in totally blind.
To begin, I did not realize I was meant to bring my nanny. Good thing I didn't know about this requirement ahead of time, because had I known, I may not have made an appearance at all. Mostly because we don't have a nanny.
I also did not realize we were ALL meant to wear very tight white jeans. Not only tight, but so tight that i could see the lines of your Hanky Panky underwear. Funny, this was part of the memo that some should have ignored. When you don't have a perfect BUTT or sexy strong legs, please don't wear clingy white jeans. If you must, please pair with a rather large tunic. But thank you. Because of you I couldn't eat my dinner. Plus one for me!
I'm guessing the note also asked that each woman wear very high heeled and expensive shoes. No, not just TOMS or Birkenstocks. It must have read "very expensive", because each lady had on a shoe more fancy than the next.
What else could that note have said? "Please don't forget to get your hair blown just so". Also, please be sure that your eyelash extensions are long and fresh. Preferably a size 11 in length.
Oh and whatever you do, DO not leave home without your Chanel bag. This part was surely written in bold. It had to be! Some even went so far as to wear Channel shoes too. Actual Chanel wedges. Who knew that Chanel even made wedges?!
As I took a glance around the room, there were at least 6 Chanel bags in plain site. Wow, at more than $5000 per bag, that was a TON of cash spent on what in NYC we call "pocket books"!! Personally i'd rather use that money for a weekly one hour massage downtown?!
Well, since i was busy drinking coffee at my local watering hole, I didn't check for a memo. Had i seen this note, I may not have even gone to your party. Tonight I showed up with perfectly blown out hair from the evening before (more on that night later) and what could most definitely pass as pyjamas. My well cut navy blue t-shirt was from Old Navy. Circa 2010. My yoga pants with the wide leg bottom were actually from Costco. My toes were painted the most perfect shade of periwinkle blue, but to stay casual, I paired them with my old white and well worn BIRKS.
I probably stood out, but i felt good. Comfy, relaxed. In reality, I felt i was one of the only people appropriately dressed?! After all, wasn't this a party for a 4 year old? I'm pretty sure that 1/2 the guests still wear diapers. Or at least pull ups at night.
So as I watched the lovely nannies work, I giggled to myself. It's a chuckle i have internally on a pretty regular basis. It's the notion that if martians landed in TO, they'd be sure that miraculously ladies from the Phillipines birthed white, often blonde hair/blue eyed babies.
I laughed and then frowned when i saw a kid fall off the ginormous jumpy castle. He hobbled straight from the jumpy house and right into his nanny's lap. This kid didn't even look for his mommy. Poor mommy.
I, on the other hand, was luckier. My four year old was literally beating me for stealing one of his french fries. As he continued to hit me, I thought that maybe these ladies who bring their nannies everywhere are onto something. These said moms were the most quaffed. In best shape. Seemingly the happiest. I was, on the other hand, sitting on the grass eating a veggie dog and sipping on an organic grace juice box. My kid was seriously hurting me, and i'm pretty sure my bum was rapidly spreading on that cute blue and white striped picnic blanket from Ikea.
Note to self... be more careful and read all memos. xo
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