No more excuses. Just drink.

Once upon a time, there was an independent mom who moved to the suburbs. She had no friends. Fearing her kids would grow up to be loners, too, she thought it wise to interact with other parents. One day, Indie mom got an invite to a "hostess" party. Indie mom was so thrilled by the prospect of meeting other Moms, she failed to read between the lines on the invitation and ended up sitting through a vitamin presentation.

D'OH and double D'OH! Homer.

Indie Mom vowed never again to be duped. But soon, other invitations began arriving. Indie Mom was conflicted. She still lacked friends. Luckily, the party products got better. Southern Living. Tastefully Simple. Pampered Chef. Silpada. Beijo. Bingo! Indie Mom traveled the hostess party circuit. Indie Mom even had her own hostess party, invited her new friends and reaped the benefits.

Then, addiction set in. Indie Mom hopped party to party, night after night, getting the next product fix. Babysitters came. The kids slept. Indie Mom charged. A pizza stone. A pair of pants. A pinky ring. A bright yellow Tuscany vase. Indie Mom looked in the mirror. What had she become? A credit-card wielding, hostess party whore, using product as a guise to meet other moms. Indie Mom sank to the floor, surrounded by her purchases, despondent.

Indie Mom went cold turkey. The husband seized the credit card. The shopping ceased. Trunk shows came. Trunk shows went. Indie Mom begged off. "Just come for drinks and adult conversation," friends offered, "You don't need to buy anything." Could Lindsay Lohan really just watch a kill-a-keg, Indie Mom thought wistfully?

Suddenly, a light bulb flickered on. Why not get together without an excuse? Why not call friends and say, "it's Thursday night. I want a fucking drink, but don't want to drink by myself because then I talk to the bathroom mirror until I pass out?"

Indie Mom picked up the yellow Tuscany vase and smashed it on the tile. (Okay, it had already been broken by Doobies wielding hockey sticks. A little hyperbole never hurt anyone.)

"To hell with hostess parties! No more excuses!" Indie Mom screamed, "Let's just drink!"