About a week ago, we were discussing what to do for my husband’s birthday. I realized he needed to have his peeps around him, but, being an introvert – and one who has been so wrapped up in getting a new business off the ground for like, ever, that he’s fallen a little off the radar with some of his buddies – putting himself out there and inviting people he hasn’t seen in a while to a party for himself sounded stressful. So, in something of a flash of inspiration, I threw together a guys’ poker night for him.
It was late notice, but free food and beer and a reasonable buy in (and the whole guys-only thing meaning nobody had to find a babysitter – sorry wives) enabled us to gather a good crowd of stellar guys – even on a Monday night. I prepped food, set up and ducked out for dinner with girlfriends just as the first guys were arriving. Hanging with my gals was lovely, but I was a little anxious to know how things were going over there (especially since a lot of the guys were from different social groups and didn’t know each other). Then somebody posted this beauty on the internet, and I figured things were going just fine.
(The T-shirt was my present to him, by the way – I had it made special in honor of how much he’s loving being able to dish off work to subcontractors now instead of doing everything himself. I also call it the capitalist pig shirt.)
Maybe the best part about the whole thing was as I was running around like crazy on Sunday getting beer and food and looking for a back-up set of poker chips (Toys ‘R Us, btw…a third the price of anywhere else), it occurred to me around 5pm that I hadn’t thought once all day about the 2WW. A new record. Bring on the poker nights.