In a hotel, downtown, with valet parking, there is a luncheon.
A fabulous luncheon with cloth napkins and centerpieces. Probably some kind of chicken, salad that looks like grass and dressing in a fancy bowl.
There will be photo presentations, speakers, special music and lots of people dressed in their nice clothes.
Italian leather shoes, dress shirts with matching ties, pencil skirts and fancy earrings.
Lots of adult people- no screaming children- all gathering together for a nice, fancy luncheon.
The only thing missing? Me. I will not be attending said luncheon today. I will not eat some kind of chicken, have my mini-van valet parked, or spill said dressing on the crisp table cloth.
I will be home- with the screaming children.
Once a year I pretend that I am a business professional with a hairdo- and today is the day- and I'm going to miss it.
There's always next November.