Happy New Year! Pffft…so it’s the third day of the year and not the first…the Happy still counts even if the “New” doesn’t. Right? Absolutely!
So let’s just skate right past the part where we discuss resolutions. It’s not like I was resolved to blog more. Because that would be more than ironic. It might, perhaps, flirt with ridiculous. And hilarious. So let’s just pretend there are no such things as resolutions.
Instead, let’s distract ourselves with some fun ways to ring in the New Year. Corrie and I decided ages ago that we would do New Year’s Eve together since they had the girlies and that way none of us would have to drive. For the win! We got John and Kim on board, who promptly started buying sparklers and planning recipes eventually. And boy did they go overboard. Just on our part, we had deviled eggs, quinoa dill salad, peppermint chocolate cuppacakes, spinach artichoke dip (seriously to die for), chips, a care package for Corrie, and wine, wine, wine. How do you get all that (plus slippers and charades) down the street without making a zillion trips? You steal your children’s wheels:
Arriving on a wagon is quite the way to make an entrance at any party, let me tell you. Know another good way? Bring some candy mustaches. The kids were gaga for the blue ones and ZOMG – the cuteness, it killed. But since I won’t even show you my children, maybe I should show you pics of us grownups enjoying them instead.
Enjoy them we did:
Aren’t we glamorous?! We decided to start a girl band called the Squeaky Mustaches. I know, right?!?! Added bonus:
The mustaches melt. And the chocolate remains sorta kinda left Corrie with a Hitler mustache. So. There’s that. But she made us crack bread, so we decided to keep her around, no matter what kind of mustache she was wearing.
The hours we spent making fun of each other while playing charades with the kids, playing Catchphrase with the grownups and making fun of Kim for not knowing Darth Maul (and 4-year-old N running in and shouting out the answer), and making fun of Gangnam Style endlessly. Because that idiot deserves it. Good, good times, indeed.
Admit it – you want to reserve me for New Year’s next year.