The Kids' Table

Part 1 in trying to make good on my last post's promise. After I get caught up here I need to catch up on the 421 unread posts in my google reader.

Mr. H's coworkers are adults. They own houses, they are married, they do more than hang out with friends and drink beer on the weekend. They also go on shrimping trips, which will come to play shortly.

My coworkers are awesome (not that Mr. H's aren't). They are adults who refuse to believe that being over the age of 23 means you need to act responsibly, cut yourself off after 2 drinks, settle down, etc. Needless to say, most of our social life revolves around my coworkers. Even though we own a house and are getting married.

That was, until the fruits of a shrimping trip were put on the table.

Enter last Saturday (1 week and 1 day ago). Shrimp boil. Mr. H doesn't eat shrimp, but I all but begged him to go to this. After all, we'd been couped up in the house all day working on (you guessed it!) wedding stuff. I drank exactly 3 beers and ate upwards of 20 shrimp. Hallelujah. I also got to know 3 of Mr. H's coworkers. They are mischievous and will be throwing a Summerfest party next weekend with a 16 foot tall inflatable water slide. Again, I begged Mr. H to let us go to this party.

As we walk to the car, we have the following exchange...

Me: That was really fun. I'm glad we went!

Mr. H: Good I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Me: Yeah. I think this was the first real adult party we've ever been to. (thoughtful pause) And somehow I still found myself at the kids' table.

Mr. H: That's what S said. When you walked away, S apologized that you got stuck at the kids' table.

Never ever get too cool for the kids' table. Cheers!