A few weeks ago, my friend Amber (chiropractic assistant- somehow I have two Amber friends, when I had none before) came into my office and asked sort of meekly if I'd be interested in subjecting myself to the craziness of Bunco and army wife drama by standing in for one of the army wives at Bunco night. She offered, "You can write it all down. It'll be an inside job." It was. And it was nowhere near as bad as I imagined. (I'd really wanted to bail come Friday night.) Strangely, I enjoyed the whole situation. The wives. The kids. Even holding a 9 month old girl. She liked me. But then she looked like my kid with blonde hair and blue eyes, in an aqua blue sleeper. It leaves me wondering, what would it be like if my life were different? But then I'm not sorry for how things are going.
According to the Urban Dictionary:
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A lame dice game that ladies use as an excuse for abandoning their families and drinking on a weeknight.
"I'm sorry, honey, I can't cook or help with the kids' homework tonight; I am needed at the bunco party."
I might have to agree with the dictionary on that definition. I'm not sure what the point of Bunco is, but at least now I know. It's just rolling dice. No skill or thought. I don't even know why anyone would play. Unless they wanted to know what it was. Ok so I was not a fan of Bunco. But I liked hanging out with the ladies and the kids. It was odd to walk into a room where most of them knew me, from my job as the eye doctor though I recalled none of them. A good reminder that I'm not anonymous. Not that I thought I was. But, it's ok to remember that.
So I won't be joining a Bunco group anytime soon. Or the army wives. But it was fun anyway.