People don't usually knock on our door so I was surprised when I heard MFM open it on Saturday night. There stood P, the stepdad of one of Lex's friends from kiddie basketball. P invited us to come to their home on Sunday for a fancy dinner — the Christmas dinner they'd planned earlier but ultimately postponed.

Heck yeah, we said yes. MFM decided not to go so it was me, Monstro, and the boys. Everyone had a wonderful time and I had not one, not two, but three different French wines (P owns a package store (liquor shop)). Our cocktail hour was more like four hours: just the way I like it. It was tremendous, the appetizers were spectacular (five cheeses! smoked fishes! baguette!) and the prime rib, served with a five-hours-in-the-making sauce, was out-of-this-world. Best of all, though, our host and hostess were charming and well-travelled and fascinating. We all had a blast.

When I got home that night I drank three pints of water. Seems to have worked — I'm tired this morning, but without a wine headache. I'm going to go run a couple of miles later this morning and that should shake loose the cobwebs.

Happy Monday, all!