Southern Showers

I hosted a baby shower for a friend today. She's originally from "up north," but all of the guests she invited (except her mother) were from here in Georgia, so I thought it would be appropriate to host a true, southern shower. (Meaning, get out all my fun crystal and silver that I never get to play with!)

So, I planned out my menu: finger sandwiches (chicken salad and pimento cheese), cheese straws, champagne oranges (using sparkling grape juice so the mommy-to-be could partake of the deliciousness), marinated mozzarella and cherry tomato skewers, petit fours, cupcake bites, madeleines, and this adorable punch recipe I found online (blue punch that you float vanilla ice cream in...when the ice cream melts it looks like bubbles, and then you float a rubber duckie in it --- it was precious). I can say precious because this blog is about the south. I don't ever say my children are precious, but this punch was precious. :)

So, last night I had my husband helping me decorate 36 tiny cupcakes, and we polished silver for 2 hours and washed all the cystal punch cups. We hung a little clothesline above both the windows in my living room and hung onesies on the line with teeny tiny clothespins. It was so exciting and fun.

Then, this afternoon, the guests started to arrive. All of a sudden, I hear an ear-splitting scream...the mom-to-be had neglected to tell me that one of her mother's friends was deathly afraid of cats. A grown woman. Whoever heard of such a thing?? So, we closed the cats in the garage, got the woman some tissues, and thought everything would be fine. Then, uh-oh, someone opened the door to the room the cats were in. More screaming and crying. Oh. my. I spoke to the guest of honor and informed her that this was a pretty key detail that she neglected to inform me of. I felt horrible, my cats were confused, and this woman was terrified. Luckily, we managed to get that somewhat resolved...

Then, when everyone went to fix their plates, one of the guests asked me to go over all the ingredients in everything I had made. Turns out she had some pretty major food allergies. Again, key detail that no one thought to tell me about. She ended up eating oranges and one of the sandwiches, but coughing and choking and blowing her nose throughout the shower because she has gluten allergies. Argh. Strike two.

I think most everyone had fun. I know the mommy-to-be and her Atlanta friends enjoyed it because this was a pretty typical shower for Atlanta. I think a lot of the family from South Georgia might have been a bit uncomfortable, though. I understand now that what we consider "football food" is what they consider "party food" down there. I think they were looking for the meatballs and the cocktail weiners in barbeque sauce and the chips and dip. Lawsie. They seemed to enjoy everything, though, even though it might not have been quite what they were expecting.

Was it fun? Yes. Did the mom-to-be appreciate it? Absolutely. Did she get a lot of nice things? Yes, she did. Did my mother have ulterior motives when she lent me some of her silver, knowing I'd end up polishing all of it for her? Maybe. :) Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. :)

Screen doors & sleepwalkers

My youngest son is a sleepwalker sometimes. We will never have a screen door that locks automatically from the inside. Want to know why? I'll tell you...

One winter night in the late 1950s, in a small house in a rural railroad town, there were two boys asleep in their twin beds in their underwear. All was quiet and calm. The evening air was still and cool. Mom & Dad checked on their boys before turning in for the night.

A few hours later, they were jolted awake by the sound of an intruder banging on their window trying to get in. Talk about a panic! My grandfather didn't know if he should grab his pants or a baseball bat first, and he probably fell on the floor in his rush to get out of bed. My grandmother most likely had the covers pulled up to her nose, staining the hem of the top sheet with lipstick in the process (a fine Southern lady such as herself always put on lipstick right before bed, after brushing her teeth). Sheer terror whitened both their faces until they realized what the intruder was shouting as he tried desperately to get in...

"Mama! Daddy! I'm locked out!"

"...Ken????!"

"Yes, it's me. Please let me in.... It's freezing out here."

They crept to the door to see their eldest son, their pride and joy, standing on the front porch shivering in his skivvies. He had been sleepwalking, went outside, and the screen door locked automatically when it closed behind him. As soon as the cold air hit his bare skin, he woke up and knew he was in a heap of trouble, for his parents were very sound sleepers, and his younger brother, if awoken by the noise, would be way too busy laughing to let him back inside....