Last night, I went to Wednesday Spaghetti at Her house.  She is a brave, brave woman.  And I want to kiss her baby’s cheeks.   It was tons of fun (and by tons of fun, I mean that I ate tons) and I met some fab people.  I also learned a few things.  Behold:

Women like to talk about their bewbs. We all compared them.  I’m sure our husbands and partners are sorry they missed it.  She Started it.

They live right near me, and I didn’t know it.

She doesn’t know how to parallel park. Ok, she did a fine job, but it was fun to pretend she was gonna hit something.

She’s going to Johns Hopkins today. Let’s hope they get answers.

She’s got the cutest little baby belly.  And I want to marry her.

She’s Italian. No kidding!

She’s sweet and awesome, as always.  One of the kindest people I’ve ever met.

She’s very brave for what she’s done.  And she’s super cute!  But she doesn’t like her bewbs. At the moment.

She made one of my favorite desserts ever.  Because she’s awesome like that.

She’s a spunky, fun gal who is nearly as busy and crazy as I am.  Or more than. I forget which. Except HER husband reads her blog.

She was  a super, sweet, gorgeous redhead and doesn’t bake (like me) because you can’t mess up or deviate from the recipe.

Basically, I NEEDED it. I needed a night out to chat, guffaw, pig out, compare bewbs, giggle, drink Jose Cuervo and smile. I didn’t worry about my kids once. I didn’t think about school placements. Heck, I didn’t even check my cell phone.  I just enjoyed.

Thanks, y’all.