HIGH TEA

"Ding-dong!"

I broke away from my reading this afternoon and went to the front door, but no one was there--just an envelope with my name on it and Sweet Neighbor Girl's name on the return address.  On the back side was written:  "Please dress nicely."  Inside was an invitation to come to a tea party at 4 PM, twenty minutes away.  Never mind that it was also dated April 9th.  There were instructions to RSVP by checking either the Yes box or No box, plus the message:  "If you cannot come, I promise I will not be mad at you."

Well, who can resist that?  So I walked over to her back door and ding-donged back at her.

"Do I have to wear panty-hose?"  I asked SNG.  (Now, I should have also asked if her parents knew about this little shingdig because I later found out they were clueless and taking a nap.  Small detail.)

"No, you do not."

"Okay, I'll be back over."  

I put on a jumper, with matching flip flops and hair scrunchie so I'd look accessorized to her satisfaction, and returned at 4 o'clock sharp.

"What kind of tea are we having?" I asked as I was seated at the dining table.

"Well, actually, we don't have any tea today, so we're having milk."  She also threw together a plateful of giant marshmallows decorated with chocolate syrup and a graham cracker cereal square, plus a dip of ice cream, to go along with the beverage, which her kitty Napoleon kept trying to drink from us.

"Am I supposed to lick this up or use my fingers?"  I asked.

"Oh, I'll get you a spoon," she smiled.

So, we drank our "tea" and ate the snack and played a game of Sorry that Napoleon kept interfering with. 

I think my book of social life etiquette says I must reciprocate with an invitation to Casa de la Flaming Bore within one week, but it's going to be hard to top this one.