Shower Time

Growing up, I was part of the neighborhood group. A bunch of skinny, knee-scapped kids who were always seeking an adventure, and usually one that required a ton of physical activity. Roller blade hockey was a popular choice, or hitting the tennis balls at a nearby cement courts, or a fierce game of kickball in a grassy backyard. When the weather was bad, we did turn on the Nintendo and invade kitchen shelves for oatmeal creme pies. I used to really love those cookies. Slowly that group of kids has grown up, with several of its members entering a different kind of union: marriage. For others of us, like my friend Eileen and I, the wedding is on the way. Eileen's is first. And so this weekend, we had a bridal shower/co-ed dinner party for her. The shower itself was a ton of fun--brunch at a yummy and charming restaurant, mani/pedis at my local nail salon, and then back to the apartment for bellinis (check them out--delicious), fruit tart, and gifts exchange. After the shower, we brought the significant others along for dinner (minus Dan, who was just coming in from a work trip to South Africa. He was not jet-lagged, just very very tired). It was the perfect weekend, just hanging out like old times. Only now, I didn't come back home with blood streaming down my legs, courtesy of a hockey injury. I had raspberry colored toes instead. Maturity is over-rated, isn't it?