So there I am last night, enjoying a party of close friends, drinking my vodka cranberry (minus the vodka of course because I am post-ovulation) and having a nice time. Apparently my friends like getting a glass of wine in me . . . they say I am much more talkative after I loosen up a bit. (they are correct in their assessment and I do enjoy a good glass of grape juice) Needless to say they all think it is their duty to hand me drinks. This makes for a bit of an awkward moment when inevitably I need to come up with an excuse - a good socially acceptable excuse.
Now even though it is the reason, I can't use the "we're trying for a baby" thing because most of them don't know that I am off birth control pills let alone on some crazy regimen of fsh, metformin, prometrium, chinese herbs and disgusting tonics. I think many of them have maybe caught on that we might be thinking about becoming parents at this point knowing how long ago my biological clock went off, but they are all polite enough not to pry. I love this group of friends and I thank them for their understanding and their continual use of contraception themselves.
The worst people to try to avoid however . . . . are the in-laws. They are simply hungry for grandchildren. I love my parent-in-laws but they get almost giddy when we go over for dinner and I turn down a glass of wine. Even if I just didn't feel like it they would ask me a couple of times, raise their eyebrows and smile sheepishly as if they were in on a secret. One particular night after I was getting over some little hospital acquired gastroenteritis while having one of my post-provera hemorrhages I made the mistake of saying I wasn't feeling well as an excuse. My mom-in-law got so cutely excited I thought she would burst. I felt like I was crushing their collective souls when I told them I was menstruating.
So I've developed the most socially acceptable excuse ever and I will say for once my job is really coming in handy. I just say that I am "on call" and therefore glued to my pager. (This is in fact a partially true statement because I don't drink a thing on nights I may get called in). If anybody ever does the math they may start to realize that I am "on call" the first two weeks of every month - which even for my job is a little to much . . . but I'm hoping nobody catches on to my little fib!
I may have missed out on actual dom perignon last night, but I was the safest driver out there!