Everyone knows you never wake a sleeping baby. Especially a baby like Doodles, who is not, shall we say, the best of sleepers. When Doodles sleeps, we rejoice. So what’s worse than waking your poor baby who is soundly asleep in his car seat? How about waking him up to take him to a cocktail party? Now, before you go thinking, oh how cute, a baby cocktail party, I need to explain, nope, it was a grown-up cocktail party. Booze instead of breastmilk. Sushi instead of Snugglepuppies. Loud voices instead of lullabies. Doodles was not the happiest guest at this party, although I will say he was the most fawned over. We showed up early, before the crowds, and stayed about an hour, by which time the volume was up to 11 and Doodles was definitely past his point of tolerance. To repay us, he screamed the entire way home.
And on a side note, the New York Times recently published an article about a group of women in New York who are meeting up regularly for a happy hour with their babies. I received this article from multiple friends. Should be I flattered that people think I’m hip or concerned that they think I’m a boozehound? Perhaps I’m an Edina-in-training, dahling.
Patsy: What do you want? Champagne?
Edina: Yes. Anything that will blur reality.
