The most bizarre thing of having my daughter at the elementary school I went to is that one of her classmates is the son of one of my high school friends. It would seem that from my group of close friends, only me and one other got out of town. I just happen to be back for a little while.
Anyhow, some 15 years after high school graduation I’m back in town, only to find that my old group of friends are still really close – emotionally, geographically… I thought it was so cool, until this weekend. On Saturday the little boy in Bean’s class had his 6th birthday party and we were invited. It was like, um… high school! All over again.
Except this time, I was the uncool kid who couldn’t break into the clique. The other girls stood around the island in the kitchen talking about American Idol karaoke, Wii games, and chocolate peanutbutter martinis. And me. Every time I walked away they whispered and shot glances at me. And when I returned they’d all be eerily quiet. Until I walked away again or someone couldn’t bear the silence and started waxing poetic about the desperate need for a liquor run – because you can’t have a party without butterscotch schnapps. Seriously? What year is it? How old am I? And didn’t the high-school crowd treatment of outsiders evolve into something more… adult-ish? You know, sarcasm, cynicism, and thinly veiled criticism?
The high point was when someone asked hubbs if he went to our high school or ‘married into it’ – as if it’s some high-class exclusive club, like alumni from an ivy league, or Navy Seals, or the Massachusetts bar. Not a group of thirty-somethings who still act like they’re in high school. They dress the same. They act the same. The only difference is that most are married, some have kids. But they don’t even pick up the doggy doo from the yard where they have a party of kids over to play in the grass. Come on, people. We stayed an hour, and that was about 45 minutes too long.
From there we went to birthday party #2 – 15 or so 5 and 6 year olds, most of whom were all in the same class at school. Running crazy through the birthday girl’s house. And there were about 8 adults there, acting strangely like… yes! high schoolers! We were at that party for a whole hour and a half, and we don’t know who the host and hostess were. They never greeted us. The other adults? Could have just as well been aliens – no one talked to each other, except 2 women off in a corner who obviously knew each other. The rest of us stood around, uncomfortably watching the kids run in circles. There were hardly any chairs. I sat on the floor. The kids loved it, but hubbs and I walked away wondering if any of the adults at these parties had a stitch of personality. Thank goodness it’s over.