So on Friday afternoon while I was teaching my last class of the day, my phone embarrassingly starts buzzing from within my desk drawer. Because the kids were working on their learning centers (which are pure AWESOMENESS if I do say so myself!) I was able to surreptitiously check who was calling. It turned out to be none other than Papa Cell. Thankfully, as is his habit, he left a voicemail saying, "Caroline, this is Papa calling. I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the Exchange Club Oyster Roast on Saturday with Beka and me. We can go at whatever time you like; it's from 4:30-7:30. And I wanted to know if you wanted me to get you a ticket. I'll get you one anyway just in case."
It was very lovely to have my weekend planned for me: babysit my sweet flower girl from 9:30-2:30 and then go to an oyster roast (yes, Mom, I do like oysters now :) ). It was quite an unorganized affair, as Papa had warned me, yet lovely nonetheless. We sat at a table with Mary Ann, Anne, Norman, and the first guy who's name I can't remember and schemed about how to make next year's roast more chic and organized by adding high top cocktail tables...
Normally I like eating small, over cooked oysters that aren't so gooey. But Papa convinced me to eat several large gooey ones... and even Aunt Beka ate one! ("I didn't like it, but I ate it.")
A lovely time was had by all.
Sounds like a great time! We just don't do oyster roasts here in Appalachia!
ReplyDeleteHooray for Aunt Beka for eating one, and for Caroline for liking them! I LOVE oysters, and I do miss oyster roasts in the lowcountry.
ReplyDeleteAhh... I need to catch up on the blog! What jewels! And what a great voicemail!
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