Saturday night, Hubster and I (along with the tribe) got invited to dinner at a friend of Bubba-Love's from the creche. The friend's mom and I have had loads of passing conversations on a few occasions, quick chats about life in the area, kids, the usual, so I was touched that she wanted to invite us over.
Even more fun, was that she also invited Miss Tennessee 1975 and her people as all. (A lot of the courage there, I think, to invite 4 non-native French speakers and their 5 combined children over for dinner! Whoa.)
Hubster asked me what our new friend's name was as we were driving over there.
"You know, I'm not sure," I said. "I think it's something like, ummm...," Silence for a moment. "You know, I really don't know."
That bodes well, doesn't it? Getting invited somewhere and not knowing the name of the hostess.
This could be sticky.
When we arrived at their house, I introduced Hubster to my friend with the hopes that she would introduce herself as well.
"This is Hubster," I said as the bisous started flying.
"Hello, Hubster," our friend said without offering her name in return, "Nice to meet you."
A quick round of smiles and more bisous with her husband (who's name we got) and Miss and Mr Tennessee, and the evening was off to a nice start.
Of course, I was now on a mission to get her name. Someone was bound to use it, right?
Everytime she and her husband had an exchange, I listened carefully for the slightest clue as to what she is called. I found myself referring to Hubster by his proper name most of the evening in hopes that would cause them to do the same. I discreetly asked Miss Tennessee if she knew our hostess' name and was slightly relieved to know that she wasn't too sure either.
Throughout the appetizers and drinks, I hoped for a moment where this difficult and embarrassing situation could be rectified, but alas, that moment didn't come. And by the time dinner was actually served, I felt it was way too late to finally ask what the heck her name was.
Touch rude at that point, right?
It was such a nice evening, learning a lot about her and her husband's lives, how they met, how long they've lived in the area, and how much our friend adores her native Paris. We ate a wonderful meal, enjoyed some excellent wines, laughed over language gaffs, and just had a great time.
And I still don't know what her name is.
You have no idea how this is killing me.