So, a year and a half ago, I started a bunco group (for those of you who don't know, bunco is a dice game. Very easy, very fun. Google it) I got tired of being a substitute for other groups and I got tired waiting for people to move, get kicked out, or die, to become a permanent fixture in a group. Laugh, go ahead, but us bunco gals, we take our games seriously. It's a monthly time to come together, roll the dice and talk. We talk about husbands, kids, work, everything under the sun. Nothing is off limits really. We laugh so much, so hard, that today, my abs were sore. That's my kind of exercise!!! lol
Yesterday wasn't the best day, by a long shot. A project I've been working on for about three weeks didn't work out like I hoped it would. At work, conotworker seriously got on my nerves. My youngest decided this week that she's not gonna eat beef anymore (as I am making a big ol pot of chilli). Something about how cows are raised blah blah blah. I tell her you eat what I make or wait till breakfast. She had cheese and chips which were technically part of dinner. All week, she's been talking about wanting to eat a chicken salad with breaded chicken. So last night I buy the salad stuff, buy Tyson 100% all natural chicken fingers all white meat breaded. She'll be so excited, she's wanted it all week. Yea, WRONG! I got yelled at..."YOU BOUGHT THE WRONG CHICKEN! THEY FEED THOSE CHICKEN CORN!!! DON'T YOU WATCH WHAT AMERICA EATS?!" or whatever the show is called. OH MY GOSH shoot me now! SERIOUSLY! She's been yammerin on all flippin week and I try to be nice and get yelled at! Why did I want to have three kids again? lol
This brings me back to bunco last night. I tell my friends about the situation which brings us to the topic of organic food. How it's good for you, and we'd do it if it wasn't so expensive to which I replied "Not me! Give me all the preservatives and additives. I wanna be here for a while, start the embalming process early!" To which my friends just busted out laughing. I wasn't gonna go. I was tired, exhausted, emotionally drained. But I knew that in the end, if I went I'd have fun, so I did, and I did.
See, when you have kids you pretty much have zero time for yourself. Then as they age, you find a few minutes here and there. My three are all teenagers in high school. My bunco time is sacred. We have been known to move the bunco day (usually a stand alone day every month) b/c of things that are happening with our families. I make it a point never to miss a bunco. That's my time. I need it to keep me sane. Well, relatively speaking.
My bunco friends, they're what make it special. The subtle nuances that no one else would understand. The code words we use for different things. These ladies are awesome. We celebrate birthdays and babies, and death. We pray for each other, we genuinely love each other. It is the most beautiful thing to see. Then, one of my favorite parts of life, not just bunco is when I get home. Usually, I carpool. Sometimes it's with my favorite neighbor Cat, sometimes with my best friend Carol. But whenever I carpool, we end up sitting outside my house and talking. Sometimes for five minutes, sometimes for forty, it doesn't matter. I think the best conversations, the real, honest conversations, happens in the car in front of my house. What happens in Vegas may stay in Vegas, but there are no video's made in bunco or my car for that matter. It's almost sacred.
The women are amazing. They're teachers, and brainiacs, and goofballs. Stay at home mom's, working mom's, and women who don't have kids. There are those that are married or dating, or single. They will give you the shirt of their respective backs. They, my group of crazy bunco friends, they are the loaded dice. They are the ones that once a month, no matter what's going on in my life, no matter how good or how bad my day has been, no matter how punch drunk I am, they are the ones that make me laugh and smile and feel loved. They are loaded with love, compassion, and patience. When God plays' bunco, they're all at the head table :D
Until next time,
Pray for a friend of mine who is struggling.