Out Of Our League

When we moved to Denver, we rented a house. Husband found the house while the girls and I were still in Phoenix. At the time, we thought we needed a four-bedroom house, because we didn't know yet that Danni was staying in AZ. So he was looking at four-bedroom houses.

Since Husband grew up here, he knows the neighborhoods. And this particular area we're living in is a place that all the "rich" folks lived when he was growing up. I think he wished he lived up here when he was growing up. Now, there are bigger and better places to live, like Highlands Ranch. But this area is still pretty nice.

I'm telling you this because we totally do not belong here. I have a five-bedroom house (two of those are in the finished basement), in an amazing neighborhood where I feel like Roseanne Connor goes to Beverly Hills. You know, if Beverly Hills had mountains and trees and lush green grass, with deer and rabbits wandering around. We live in the south part of the development, which is the older part. There are newer and bigger houses the farther north you go. In fact, the neighbors on our street like to joke that we live in the "ghetto" of this area. Because we totally do.

This house we are renting, we got it for a steal. I'm still not entirely sure why, because Husband did all the paperwork before we got here, but the story I was told is that the owner of the house is on social security, and can't have over X amount of income. When I told my neighbor what we were paying in rent, she practically fell over, because I'm guessing it could have been rented for a LOT more. I think the condition of the house had something to do with the price too. It's an older house, and if someone wanted to sell it, they'd have to do quite a bit of work first. But I love it to death. I care not a whit about the scratched-up wooden doors and floor. Or the substandard job the basement finishers did. I've seen some really nice finished basements around here, and this one is just, eh. But Shannon loves having her own "apartment" down there. She's going to be sharing it with Danni soon though. Ha.

So what I'm trying to say here, is that we live in an area that we have no business living in. We are just normal middle-class (unemployed) people. Not everyone around here is rolling in money, but there are certainly those that are.

The people on my street are nice people. I get along fine with all my neighbors. There's this one family at the end of the street who have twin first-grade boys who go to a private school, and the mom is really nice, but she freaks me out a little. Have you ever met one of those people who was just happy all the time, and volunteered for everything, and talked in a gentle voice and had a smile plastered on but their eyes looked all wide like they were on something? I'm just saying. She's a nice lady, but ... yeah.

So, let's just say that sometimes at the schools, you can run into some snooty people. You know the soccer moms with the perfect hair and nails and all the jewelry and the designer jeans and the new Escalades? Yeah. I'm not one of those.

Are you wondering what my point is? Me too. Oh wait. So there are two parties that Kylie and I have been invited to. The first one is a tea party. No, not that kind. I mean the kind where they serve tea. It's on Friday at the elementary school, and it's a Mother's Day tea. The paper Kylie brought home said that I was invited to a Mother's Day tea on Friday at 2:45pm, and to bring two teacups. Teacups? Look, I don't have no stinkin' teacups. First, I don't drink tea. Second, we drink mostly out of plastic cups around here, because as I mentioned, we are the Connors.

So then I had a great idea. I'll just go to the Salvation Army store and pick up a couple of teacups. It did turn out to be a great idea, because I found these:



No, not the bananas, the cups. Aren't they cute? Guess how much I paid for them? 45 cents each. And you know what? They're probably worth like $2000 each. I know this because it says "France" on the bottom of them. The next time the Antiques Roadshow comes through town, I am totally going and taking my French teacups.


You know what else I found at the Salvation Army store for 45 cents each?


Oh yeah, baby. I wish I could take one of these to the first-grade tea party instead of a teacup. Because I may not drink tea, but I am a margarita connoisseur. Would it be completely tacky to bring one of these on Friday? Ok, yes it would. But don't you think a margarita or two would be mandatory for high tea with first-graders? I think so.

Do you like my picture background of half a cantaloupe, bananas, rabbit cards from Kylie's Easter basket and the light switch? I thought it was pretty classy myself.

Guess what else I have? When my sister-in-law was here at Christmas, she bought copious amounts of alcohol. She's fun! We didn't exactly get around to drinking ALL of it. I'm not a big drinker, and Husband isn't really either, so I've been storing the leftovers in the freezer out in the garage. I went out there today, and you know what's in there?


How perfectly does that go with my new 45 cent margarita glasses? And it's even Cinco de Mayo today. If that isn't an excuse for a margarita, I don't know what is. Salud!


I said we were invited to two parties, right? The second one is a birthday party with a "derby" theme. I'm guessing that means horses. It's girls only, they're supposed to wear their best dresses, and will leave with a hat they've made that matches their dress. The Evite said that "afternoon hors d'oeuvres and beverages will be served." Well, roll me in sugar and call me Cookie, isn't that sweet. It also says, "Great time for mom's (sic) to hang out too!"

Yeah. No. I'll drop Kylie off, but I don't even own a dress, let alone something for a derby. Depending on the weather, I wear either jeans, a shirt and my furry boots, or shorts, a shirt and sneakers. Luckily, Kylie does have one cute dress that I think would be appropriate. It's the same dress she wore for her kindergarden graduation. Good thing she doesn't grow. Well, she grows taller, so the dress is a bit shorter, but it still fits. Can you picture me sitting around with these skinny soccer moms in dresses and heels having hors d'oeuvres? Me either. One person responded to the Evite by saying "Elizabeth and I will both be there in our derby finest!" Gag.

Wait, will mint juleps be served? This might call for another trip to the Salvation Army store.

Just kidding, I'm not going. Roseanne is perfectly happy drinking margaritas in her own house, while not wearing a dress.

Tienen un bueno noche, mis amigos! Salud!