From Pampers to Pampered Chef

I recently attend a evening's entertainment with a difference. After years of being submerged in pampers and other baby/child related products, I find myself invited via Netmums to a Pampered Chef evening.
Get ready nervously as going to a new house for this and will be meeting new people. Katie's greatest fear factor. Check out the Pampered Chef website for product prices lest I look like a total idiot when I don't have enough cash to buy anything. Why do these things always happen the day before payday?
Climb into the people carrier and find a bit of paper with an address in the right town on it. This may or may not be the venue for the Pampered Chef event. I must have written it down for some reason but this could be one of my regular Nearly New bargains from the Netmums website or something else. Fortunately, the god's are smiling and I arrive at the right house and to a warm welcome from the ever-wonderful local Netmums Coordinator.
The room is packed with women and I manage to find a seat because, let's face it, if I lounge on the floor like the yummy mummies, I will never manage to raise the Titanic and get myself up again. Or if I do, it won't be the most graceful sight!
Do my usual and accept a glass of wine gratefully for Dutch courage.
The Pampered Chef person plonks a sticker on me and ask me how much I enjoy cooking. Claim that it is 8 or 9 which is true on my best days and crashes to zero if I am wound up by children, life, other half, whatever.
The "demonstration" begins with the Pampered Chef person banging on and on (and on) about the benefits of the company's cookware. We are then informed that we can watch her prepare a meal for us but we will be expected to help. Clutch my glass for dear life and hide behind a heavily pregnant lady in the hope Mrs Pampers will not see me. We all stand round like children to Mrs Pampers teacher/lecturer. As the drinks flow, I start to get wicked thoughts that all the products are actually sex toys in disguise and that we are all at an Ann Summers party. Once that concept enters my mind, I keep feeling giggly as Mrs Pampers talks of "choppers" "balls" and "banging really hard". Childish I know but at least it means I keep watching and listening. The other mummies are cooing and oohing and ahhing working themselves into a frenzy about the products. Make a silent bet with myself that they have not checked out the prices in advance like myself.
The "meal" is served in due course. Miniscule cheese tarts and pasta with a bit of tomato on it. Sort of food I used to do when I did not know how to cook to be honest. Realistically, of course, Mrs Pampers will need to keep her costs down in order to make a profit. To be fair, I appreciate being invited and the novelty factor of the evening.
Brochures are handed out and is it me or are there sharp intakes of breath as people notice the prices? People hand in forms almost shame-faced that they have not bought enough. I get a mini-chopper as I cannot chop for anything and a mini-chopper is big enough for me! Know I will get away with it with other half as he loves gadgets.
When Mrs Pampers leaves, people appear to visibly relax. Drink and snacks come out courtesy of our hospitable hostess. There is much good conversation and hilarity. I am not sure quite what happened but I do know I staggered home at around 3am for the first time in many, many years. Raided the casserole still bubbling in my slow cooker and felt a nice sense of naughtiness.
As for the mini-chopper, I have used it once in a month but it serves as a reminder of getting out and about and having a laugh.
I do wonder though if a cookery demonstration can lead to such good fun, what would it be like if the next Netmums event includes Ann Summers or similar?!