Walking out the door at 5:00 p.m., my nine-year old son announced, "Mom, we can't forget to bring the potted luck."
"The potted luck? What? Like bamboo stalks, Honey?" I asked.
"I dunno," he said. "Maybe it wasn't potted luck. Maybe we're each supposed to bring some pot to pass."
"What is this? Eco Club awards night? You need a couple bootleg tapes, too?"
"Mom, duh, it's the Chess Club banquet."
I stared at him intently and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders and said, "I'm confused. I thought we're supposed to bring pot or a pot of luck or something. Didn't you read the note I gave you this morning?"
"You mean that crumpled piece of paper you handed me when I was in the shower?"
"YES! That note. That's the one!"
"I was naked under a spigot, Babe. It's not where I do my best reading."
"Just a potluck dish." I said a little louder.
"You're telling me we need a potluck dish, now? At five o'clock?"
"Mom, technically I tried to tell you this morning, but--"
"Honey, do you even know what a potluck is? It's a passive- aggressive mom contest. However, no one will ever admit it's actually a contest. But don't be fooled, because those bitches get real and it's totally a contest. Moms freak out trying to outdo other moms by bringing their prettiest or healthiest Pinterest concoction. We're talking tri-colored macaroni salad molded in the shape of Mount Rushmore. 79-bean chili in 47-grain bread bowls. Creepy watermelon sculptures. Mrs. Walkitalki, or whatever her name is, will bring her heart-shaped sashimi. There'll be 9-layer Jell-O dessert parfaits, roasted chickpea edible necklaces, and sheet cakes airbrushed with mother/daughter Glamour Shots. And we've got nothin'."
"Mrs. Waterson is likely hitching up her trailer at this very moment to transport her
Victoria Falls replica chocolate fountain. No. We can't just bring chips. What would people say?"
"Mom, I've got an epic idea: KFC. Let's bring a bucket of KFC drumsticks. We'll blow their minds with fried chicken. You'll become a potluck supper legend. The other mothers will talk about it for years."
"I bet they will, Honey. I bet they will."
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