RSVPs

are important people!

I don't care that it's not for a wedding. I don't care that it's not for a baby shower. I don't care that it's not for something that is 'noteworthy'.

I am inviting you to go out to dinner with me and my family to celebrate my birthday. Now, I know you've got your 'lovely, beautiful, handsome' baby to look after and your 'hunky, god-like' husband to consult. It shouldn't take too long to decide.

You: "I know it's only a week's notice but M invited us for dinner. Are we doing anything on Saturday?"
Him: "No, not that I can think of."
You: "It'd be good to go, but we've got the baby and that's just so hard to deal with. Our incredible doting parents just wouldn't want to baby-sit for a couple of hours!"
Him: "No, I guess they wouldn't."
You: "Ok, so are we going or not?"
Him: "She did fly home from Canada to go to our wedding, and did drive a 12 hour return trip for your two hour baby shower. Do you think we should go to her birthday?"
You: "It's not a significant birthday, it's just 29. But she doesn't really ask us to do anything and is always there for us."
Him: "So we go?"
You: "Let's not decide yet. Let's wait until 5 days after the RSVP and less than 24 hours before we're supposed to be there to let her know that yes, we're coming and that she needs to make sure that there is enough room for our super-dooper gigantic (fuck off unnecessary) pram!"
Him: "Ok. Let's do that."

So, yeah. RSVPs are there for a reason. I made the booking 5 days ago. I now have to ring up the restaurant and not only add two extra seats to a table of 13, but ensure that they are aware that an extremely large pram will be arriving and, no, you are not going to just park it to the side, but will need it right next to you, taking up a place at the table.

Oh for God's sake!

That's it. No mothers are invited to my dinners ever again.

*Unless they're CJ's Mum, who had the courtesy to reply before the RSVP and ask for a high chair politely and told me not to stress too much, 'cause he could sit on everyone's laps 'cause he likes being passed around.*