Our old school roller skating shower was yesterday. 80’s theme. It rocked.
Our friends dressed up, they dressed their kids up. There were abundant side ponytails. I had blue eyeshadow.
S, of course, was not skating, but we booked the rink for ourselves, and she had fun watching everyone. It was a perfect shower. I don’t know about all you social people, but I get really worked up when everyone from different areas of our life, work, grad school friends, both families, S’ s friends, are all in one place. Yikes. But blessedly, our roller party involved no shower games, no gathering in the living room for awkward conversation with someone’s great aunt, no opening presents for 127 minutes (but lets not talk about the presents or lack thereof, which is fodder for another post entirely). Oh, and it was a potluck-ish brunch, which is, in my opinion, the best meal ever.
BTW, I’m like 6’5” in roller skates. If I had fallen, it would have been ugly. And not only did I skate, I skated while dancing to 80’s music, which was mostly good times, but some songs just came out of nowhere and brought me back to some angsty fucking years.
This party was also an opportunity for my friends to
scope out meet our donor, RM, my friend WTF and their family. I mean, who wouldn’t be curious about him?
Apparently my friends, most of whom FORGOT to look for him.
You gotta love my friends, who are totally interested in our pregnancy, but not at all interested in scoping out our donor at an event where there was ample opportunity for covert staring. Luckily, I was later able to describe him to them because he stood out not only for his good looks and good dad skills, but for his mean roller skating skillz. The man is coordinated. He was all skating backwards and shit, and not on inline skates, but on old school four wheelers. Our reaction to his skating prowess cracks us up…I mean normally one does not care whether one’s friend’s husband is a good roller skater, but for us we’re like SCORE. Sexy donor roller skating times.