Friday, 22 June 2007

Hostess With the Mostest

The weekend is here! Bring it on! Two whole days to relish the dubious delights of the family unit.

Sunday mornings chez Drunk Mummy are usually a pyjama-fest (or ‘dirty protest’ depending on the hangover), where the kids sit and watch junk TV while H and I sit and read junk newspapers. Later on we all sit down to endure the mutual misery of a meal together.

Family conversation topics can range from politics (‘Stop doing that!’) to religion (‘For Christ’s sake, will you sit down!’) to philosophy (‘Why do I bother?’). We occasionally delve into the deeper, more cerebral issues of analytics (‘Who farted?’), logic (‘Well, it wasn’t me!) and ethics (‘Will you stop it, it’s really unpleasant!’).

This Sunday will be different. We are having friends over for lunch. Actually, I say ‘friends’ but despite the fact that they are both extremely pleasant families, the dads are also H’s work colleagues. Somehow that fact makes me feel that ‘best behaviour’ is called for – mine rather than the children’s.

I think my sensitivity stems from a rather unfortunate incident when I had just started going out with H. We met up after work with some of his colleagues to go to the theatre, and although I didn’t realise at the time, I was about to be struck down with a stomach bug (honest!). I felt fine during the pre-theatre drinks, and even managed a G&T at the interval. But by the middle of the final act, the auditorium had become stiflingly hot, and I suddenly started to feel rather queasy. I realised that since I was in the middle of a very long row, it would be unlikely that I could hurdle over legs and briefcases fast enough to get to the loo in time. I retrieved my brand new handbag from under my seat, and started the frantic scramble for a tissue. Of course, there was nothing so practical in my bag in those days – just credit cards, lipstick and a couple of condoms. In that split second of rising panic and rising puke, I decided that I really couldn’t spoil this lovely new bag, so I vomited into the sleeve of my suit.

Fortunately, H realised what was happening and propelled me very rapidly to the exit, galloping over the tangle of feet. I remember clutching the cuff of my sleeve to prevent the armful of vomit falling out onto the other people in the row.

If H was horrified at this display of pitiful ingenuity from his new girlfriend, he had the decency not to show it. Instead, he covered me with his own coat, looked after me, and took me home in a taxi. Reader – I married him. But he can’t say that he wasn’t warned!

Anyway, the upshot (or should I say ‘upchuck’) of this episode was that one of H’s female colleagues always referred to me afterwards as ‘Vomiting Veronica.’ My, how I laughed! I laughed even more when she got fired.

So, on Sunday I am determined to present myself as a paragon of sobriety.

Who am I kidding? I know that after all the bustle of preparation on Sunday morning (scraping the mould off the hand towels, shaving the toilet bowl) I won’t be able to resist a few glasses of fizzy when the guests arrive.

Once the main meal is on the table, I can start to relax with a few glasses of white, then move on to the red. Dessert will involve lurching towards the freezer for a tub of ice cream and a couple of spoons, and by the time it gets to the coffee, I shall be propping my feet up on a chair, and waving vaguely in the direction of the kettle.

I have bought a few bottles of Lindauer Special Select (Ocado £7.99 down from £9.99 until 3/7) for the pre-lunch drinks on Sunday. But in the interests of research (and because it’s Friday night) I am drinking a glass of it now.

It has a very unusual salmon pink colour, and tastes a bit like nutty, yeasty biscuits, but without the choking risk.

It was in the ‘Vomiting Veronica’ era that I discovered Lindauer. Back then, it was one of the very few sparkling wines that could hold its own against the snobbery of champagne. Now, of course, we are spoilt for choice with good, cheap fizz.

I’m sure our guests will enjoy it too, and at this price we can drink three bottles for the equivalent cost of one bottle of champagne.

I think on Sunday I might wear a long-sleeved top. Just in case.

24 comments:

mutterings and meanderings said...

Oh, well done on avoiding the new bag. And well done on the man for standing by you. I always used to say that the mark of a good bloke was one who held your hair out of the way while you vomited.

I am very surprised at the coherence of my typing as I have just been wine-ing avec mama.

Omega Mum said...

I have a story that involves man desperate to impress would be love of life overcome at other end, too embarrassed to use loo because in very small flat.....Not a happy ending, sadly. So think yourself lucky......It could have been an awful lot worse.

Pig in the Kitchen said...

ha ha ha! vomming into the sleeve, how ingeneous! and how bizarre that you thought you might fit it all into a tissue...

Glad to hear that other people's family meals can be tortuous too. I relate to the philosophical 'why do i bother'.

Hope you have a lovely lurching lunch!
Pigx

expatmum said...

I agree that a good man (alias my hubby) is the type who will hold your hair while you throw up. However, 17 years later, it sometime comes back as after dinner 'amusing' conversation. Am I never to live it down?

The Good Woman said...

Love your family conversations - and your upchuck incident. We all have them, but few marry the witnesses. What a prince!

EmmaK said...

Wow, I admire you. I would never dear to get rat arsed amongst my husband's work colleagues. Maybe you are not one of life's blurters like me, who when sozzled will say the most innapropriate things.

DJ Kirkby said...

Urgh vomiting, what a waste of good wine! Speaking of which, loads of said wine was drunk at mine last night, yum, yum, yum (great party, you would have loved it!)

Stay at home dad said...

Stomach bug! Right!

On first meeting my wife I greeted her with the words 'sorry I have to go and throw up'. That was a stomach bug too...

Peter May - The Pinotage Club said...

If you're looking for pink fizz, have a try of the Simonsig Rose - it's a 2005 vintage methode champenoise from South Africa and is 25% off offer until 3/7 down to 8.99

dulwichmum said...

You, without doubt are the best blogger around. Consistantly laugh out loud funny. This was spectacularly good.

DM

jenny said...

TOOOO FUNNY! I cannt say anything else for the laughing!!

DJ Kirkby said...

Just had to come back and laugh again over the concept of the 'mutual misery of a meal together', too funny!

debio said...

C'mon, drunk mummy, are you really trying hard enough behind the scenes for that book deal?! Couldn't agree more with dulwich mum.....

expatmum said...

Go for the book. Go for the book!

Crystal Jigsaw said...

Just found you whilst having a browse and so glad I did. That was a good laugh. I do hope your Sunday is going well. You're probably at the hand waving in the kettle direction as I type!
Best wishes, Crystal x

Mopsa said...

Public vomiting - really not a good feeling. I suspect the negative karma was working well the day the colleague named you so nastily.

Lucy Diamond said...

Oh Drunk Mummy, you are brilliant - loved that vomiting story and the fab description of your Sunday lunch conversations. I agree with the others - where's that book deal? It's well overdue.

So...dare I ask how it went on Sunday, then? Is there a reason you've not posted since?!

Lucy Diamond said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Lucy Diamond said...

Sorry that was me, posting twice. And not even drunk!

Frog in the Field said...

Drunk Mummy, fantastic!
How did it go?
I remember a similar episode like that and not being able to get out of bed for a day or two.
I was disgusted ith myself and decided to be really honest at work, writing 'Hangover' on my sick/absent form. My boss was not at all amused, but said at least I was honest about it so I didn't get into trouble.
Of course the next time it happened I used the old food poisoning excuse!
That was oh so long ago, though.....

DevonLife said...

I remember being at a friend's house for dinner - can't remember leaving, but did wake up with a godawful head the next day.

Found out a few weeks later that I'd stolen into the conservatory, chucked up in a corner and then in a feeble attempt to disguise it moved the rug over it. Nice.

Was never asked back. That I have to say was not a stomach bug.

Just lots and lots of lovey liqueur.

Nunhead Mum of One said...

Excellent post! I was sick on my second date with my now beloved husband.

I had been warning him of impending upchuck for about an hour before it happened. When it grew nearer, he excused us from the group of MY friends we were with, guided me outside and held my head over a litter bin. After the event, he lugged me back into the pub and bought me a tonic water and a packet of ready salted crisps. And then headed to the Gents where he was spectacularly sick. Bless!

Silvana said...

So did it all go okay? What did you cook?

Drunk Mummy said...

M&M – too true! All the best blokes seem to have a pretty poor sense of smell too, I find.

Omega Mum – I keep telling H this, but he doesn’t seem to agree.

Pig – yes, it was laughable that I thought a tissue would catch it all. But bear in mind I was desperate!

expatmum – perhaps we will start to see ‘good hair holding ability’ in the Personal ads along with ‘GSOH’ as a desirable quality in a mate.

good woman – yes, I suppose after that incident, it couldn’t really go any further downhill (or so he thought – ha!).

emma – no, I’m not really a blurter – I just get so incoherent that no-one can understand what I am saying anyway.

dj kirkby – I hadn’t actually drunk that much when it happened (only a sleeve-ful).
It sounds like your party was fun!

SAHD – you old romantic fool you – charmed her with your silky sophistication, did you?
Btw, I really did have a stomach bug – I was ill for days after!

Peter – I am ALWAYS looking for pink fizz. It’s on my shopping list – thanks for the recommendation!

Dulwich Mum, Jenny and dj – thank you! You are all very kind!

debio and expatmum – I was wondering whether ‘Decanter’ magazine needed an agony aunt…….

Hello crystal jigsaw!
It did go well, despite my rather poor hostess credentials. I always start off with very good intentions, but it doesn’t take long (or much wine) before I really can’t be bothered any more.

mopsa – yes – I thought it was funny the first few times, but after a dozen or so, it did lose its appeal (as did she against her sacking!)

lucy – thank you! I try not to blog at weekends (just to prove to myself that I’m not addicted, see? I can handle it!)
Are you sure you haven’t been taking a few crafty swigs whilst rummaging in the fridge? You wouldn’t be the only one, you know.

frog in the field – wow! That was honest of you. Obviously there was only so much honesty your boss could take!

devonlife – oooh, that was sneaky (but rather ingenious!) – shame you couldn’t have blamed it on a particularly fastidious dog. Rugs, like suits, can always be dry cleaned!

nunhead mum of one – aaaaahhh! The couple that sicks together sticks together, eh? Or the couple that barfs together laughs together – I’ll shut up now.
You must have a particularly strong constitution to manage either tonic water OR a bag of crisps after a puke!

silvana – I have an extremely limited repertoire when it comes to entertaining, and it’s nearly always based on ‘nursery food.’ I made a very large shepherd’s pie, and an orange almond sponge to go with fruit and ice cream. They were both chosen because you can make them in advance, and I know what a complete slug I am on a Sunday morning (or any morning, for that matter).