A clear, unmistakable, frightening sign that I need to get out more.
I was out with a group of girlfriends Friday night for dinner. One I know well, two I know pretty-well, and one I hardly know at all. I was maybe trying a little too hard to be fun and entertaining. Or maybe I was completely uncomfortable without four children hanging from both of my arms. Or maybe I just assumed that the same rules would fly as when I'm eating out at a restaurant with my husband.
While chatting and laughing, I double-dipped my pita bread in the mixture of olive oil and vinegar set out in the middle of the table. for. all. of. us. And, it wasn't just one, harmless, quick dip. The bread was OK but the dip was divine, so I was swirling it around, trying to soak up as much as I could.
I didn't realize it until a friend mentioned to me that she was turning her piece of bread around to avoid double-dipping. I was mortified. I looked at her like a deer in headlights. I told her I had been double-dipping the entire time. My face turned bright red and I started laughing. Another friend said she had noticed, but decided she wouldn't call me on it. Everyone laughed. I laughed so hard I cried, and could hardly breath. I couldn't believe what I had done. I was squished in a booth between two of the girls. Otherwise I would have made a mad dash for the door.
That hovering/flying and/or disappearing super power would have come in very handy - yet a-gain.
These were some of my "new friends" since moving here. So, if we suddenly move again, you'll know why: because I couldn't make any new friends. Geesh, I guess I assumed we were closer friends than we really were - like married or something.
But, I wouldn't blame them at all.
My husband said he may never take me to a restaurant again. I sensed he was even more mortified than I was, which is hard to imagine. But, honestly, I blame it on never going out to restaurants with anyone but him; I can't even recall the last time I went out to eat with friends. Maybe I should make it a point to get out more - with-out my husband and kids.