Tuesday, May 26, 2009


I don't know how many of you have played Bunko. Hell, I don't know how many people are actually reading this blog. Could just be my mother and even that is iffy because she doesn't know how to use a computer. (What is with that generation?)

The third Thursday of every month is my night out. My only night out all month. I am alone, I am usually dressed to resemble a woman, I have adult conversations, and wine. It is bliss. This month I hosted Bunko. The night before the "Bunko girls" came (which is what my two boys call them) I was hoping to get some preparations done while my husband took over the boys. Things didn't quite work out that way. We ended up screaming the boys into bed and then screaming at each other like idiots. My husband yelling, "You get so stressed out over people coming!"

As I was huffing around in the basement trying to cool off a little I realized why that statement made me go ballistic. I wasn't all stressed out, I was excited. I love these women. Bunko is more than a dice game you can still play with Baby Brain and three Margaritas. Bunko is a life line. It is the quilting bee, the knitting club, it's the Red Tent of our generation!

I look forward to Bunko because of all the differences we bring to the table. (no pun in tended) Some of the women are now empty nesters, some are rounding the corner with kids in high school, others are still in the thick of things with Elementary and Junior High schoolers, and there is me with little ones still underfoot. We have some commonalities, but many of us are as different as night and day. Some outgoing, some reserved, some can keep score others should not, some can hold their liquor and others - well let's just be honest, I can't be trusted with either!!

There's the storyteller, she takes command of the room and weaves a tale that leaves us all in stitches. There's the sex addict that can turn the most simple comment into a sexual innuendo. She doesn't work alone though, she has a partner that helps fuel the fire. Some nights are serious because life and kids and husbands are serious business. Most nights we just eat, talk, drink, play, and laugh... a lot.


  1. You have to introduce me to the sex addict!! :)

  2. Someone is reading it!!! I love you Joe