Quiz Night

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On Saturday, I went to Letitia's house for a quiz night with the other Netmummies. I arrived by taxi as our car has packed up inevitably just as I have lost my job and cannot afford a new one till my scumbag ex-employers decide to pay me. As ever, relieved to see familiar faces having spent most of the afternoon trying to talk myself out of going.
The first challenge is to see that Letitia keeps a lovely home and hence people are barefoot to protect cream-coloured carpets. Note to self that I must bring slippers or socks to future Netmummies meetings. Why? Because my errant puppy has chewed my shoes so much that the dye has come out and stained my feet black. Of course, to everyone else, they just look mucky! Lecture myself that people are not going to hate me for this or anything else. Try to combat negative self-talk that nobody wants me here and I am an invader of an otherwise happy group. I have not changed over the years. 20 years ago my Dad had to explain to me that if I had been invited to a New Year's Eve Party in London by a college friend, she probably did actually want me to be there.
Letitia has laid out various snacks such as choccy muffins and Haribo sweets which I am not really allowed as I am on a healthy eating plan. However, I make an exception for wine of course. I sit in a lovely characterful chair and get told off for doing so by someone who thinks I would be more comfy in a soft chair. I know that if I have too much to drink (which I almost inevitably will!) at least the hard chair should keep me upright.
I am keen for the quiz to start but the Netmummies engage in gossip or should I say vital news of the week. There is much laughter and sharing. Will the quiz never start? At one point, I actually think it might not. I like a night with an activity to hide behind.
We divide into teams and I am disappointed not to be place with my greatest blog fan who I would like to get to know better in the real rather than virtual world. I am with Veronica the Air Hostess, Ivy the Paramedic and a lady who is drinking milk presumably down to the lovely bump she is displaying. We call ourselves the Haribo Whores as Ivy is eating them like there is no tomorrow. One of the other teams consists of Susannah, Queenie and Marigold. Queenie is already getting into party animal stakes and may well need to be nicknamed "lol" as she is doing that loads, some would say in a raucous manner but that would be unkind. In all seriousness for a moment, it is great to see her letting her hair down - perhaps nobody in the group deserves to more. Susannah seems to speak when she has something to say but the rest are getting wild, talking over each other and the wine is flooding rather than flowing. I don't know Marigold at all well but feel good about her as she once said nice things about my blog. Flattery works every time for me as I am very shallow! Later, I find out she step-parents which is another bond as I know all about the traumas of taking on that particular joy. The final team sees Karen, Lucia, Sally and Mary joining forces. Mary is so called because of her innocent nature!
We work through the quiz and I am useless. I only get one question right and that is based on reality television which shows what an Cambridge education does for you! Veronica the Air Hostess is fantastic and could do the quiz on her own to be honest as Ivy the Paramedic is losing interest fast now the Haribos have disappeared, I am stupid and the expectant mum seems about as clueless on most questions. Meanwhile, Queenie calls over that I look "intelligent" mistaking my sozzled look for intellect! Does this mean she hates me?
It is difficult to tell what is going on in the other teams apart from lots and lots of laughter and chat. As the wine reaches tsuami proportions, some lose interest in the quiz altogether I think despite Letitia's efforts to keep us on track. Valiant woman!
Wobbly Ivy crashes into a heap facedown on the carpet. Someone says how good it is of her to demonstrate the recovery position for us all. Naughty children (OK then grown-ups) swoop like vultures and draw cartoons and bodily parts on her.
Letitia asks if anyone minds her bringing a timer into her own lounge so she does not burn our mini-pizzas. Queenie finds this hilarious. Mini-pizzas arrive and my healthy eating plan is abandonned as I use the pizzas as sandbags to combat the tsumai.
Mary is so innocent that she does not realise that some people may see her as a sexual being so out pop her breasts and later her bottom. Queenie later describes this as the claxon to announce that Netmummies parties are now about to hit totally wild status so anybody of a sensitive nature had better book at a taxi and quick. Unusually from what I can tell, Mary actually leaves early and is much missed.
I leave at around 1pm having realised that most people have left and I share a taxi with Ivy (now on her feet and getting her second wind) and Queenie. Return to chaos at home but that is another story ....
Big thanks to Netmummies for some sanity in the mad world of parenting.

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