Now that the company luncheon is over it is time to prepare for our drunken bash on Saturday night.  For the record, I hate this one too but it is a lot easier to disappear when you aren't confined to a conference room not to mention there are no fights over who gets stuck sitting by Stinky MacStinkass.  We can just lead her to a corner surrounded by her PigPen fog that can act as a warning to all.

My date this year is Number One Son.  You may be wondering why I won't be including SCM.  If you are wondering, you haven't been reading my laments very long.  I will fucked him, bring him coffee and take his money but I am damn sure not taking him out in public.  He and I don't do well outside of the house.  I admit, my expectations of his behavior are far too high.  I mean who am I to request he not hog the microphone during karaoke, tell inappropriate jokes or grab my ass in front of my employees. 

I am so freakin' inflexible.

My son works in my office on occasion acting as my bitch.  Most recently moving people around and putting together desk to accommodate Smellslikeass's need for a closet office of her own.  The gang likes him and has invited him to hang out with them at the party.  If nothing else, I have a designated driver although I suspect it might work out the other way around.

Tonight is the Princess' Christmas Program.  I can call it Christmas because she is in a catholic school so no PC holiday titles required.  I got to thinking about how much I used to like my Christmas programs at school.  It was so exciting being in the classroom at night with our pretty new clothes, games and the teachers acting like real people.  The glitter of the decorated gymnasium and the butterflies before we went on.  Scanning the audience for Mom and Dad and being so excited to finally locate them.  All the parents gathered around to pick up the kids when the show was over.

I hope the Princess's memories are just as nice when she gets to be an old cranky bitch like me.