"Ease cot loaf vandals," I say, as I run my hands down my sides in an as sultry voice as I can muster given the circumstances. Our small group of friends sits around the dining room table with blank expressions when I repeat the words only faster this time, "ease cot loaf vandles," making a small shaking motion near my hips. "He's got love handles!" shouts Julie from the other side of the table, and we roar with laughter.
It's new year’s eve, (1) and the first time this group of friends has been together in four, no, maybe six years. First, it was Linda's new job as a ski instructor, which required her to stay late at the ski resort to participate in the "torch light" parade. The parade is every employee that can ski comes down the mountain in a snake-like procession holding flares in each hand while fireworks boom overhead. The train is exciting to witness; however, by the time Linda makes it home, she is tired and crashing from the adrenaline rush of the event.
Next came COVID-19, and we missed a couple of years because the world believed (2) that every sniffle and cough would cause the end of civilization. As an extreme introvert, I have a reasonably high tolerance for loneliness; however, when the doorbell rang this past December 31, I almost cried to see my friends standing in the doorway.
Humanity is, after all, a group of social creatures, and no matter the level of tolerance for being alone, being in groups keeps us more robust. Linda had arrived home early from the mountain as the weather threatened the torch parade (3) and she grew bored waiting for a decision. The pizza dough didn't rise as much as I had hoped; however, the conversation was fun and exciting as we caught up on the lives of children and now grandchildren while we rolled flat dough and cooked homemade pizza in dutch oven skillets and broiled them in the oven for good measure.
We didn't intend to stay up until midnight; we simply wanted to enjoy each other's company for as long as possible. So around 8:30, we selected a game from the buffet table drawer, and as we passed around the Mad Gab (4) game box, we didn't follow any rules. Instead of playing in teams, one person selected a card, and the rest guessed at the jumble of words.
Those of us with hearing aids were at a distinct disadvantage, (5) so mild charades entered along with the jumble. Saying the words fast helped; however, once you looked at the answer, saying the chaotic words were more complicated. We laughed and laughed, passing the box around the table. Linda soon started to nod off, her twelve-hour days catching up, so we decided to call it a night. Hesitantly, everyone gathered their things. We lingered in the entryway and stood at the doorframe for far longer than needed as we said goodbye to friends hoping, along with a silent prayer, it won't be so long before our next meeting. Happy new year.
Written January 15, 2023
Footnotes:
December 31, 2022
As we were led to believe.
Light sticks have replaced the flares.
Mad Gab is a product of Mattel Games
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.