Preschool Mafia

I have 2 friends I met when our children were in Pre-K together. One of them just dubbed us  the PreSchool Mafia. I can't tell you how fitting this is. It has nothing to do with Pre-K other than we met there. (Oh, and there was mafia within that pre-k. Disregard any connection to THAT family). 

It has to do with this:

Me and K: G, let's go out tonight.

G: I don't know.

Me and K: G, come on! Let's go!

G: I don't know. Hubs says that.....

(cue Beastie Boys' Sabotage in the background)

Me and K: No. We come getchoo.

Grammar flies out the window... and we put our lip gloss on. It is ON. That is it. Discussion is over. We are on our way. F what hubs says....

It would seem that the Preschool Mafia's chief job is to get one out of the house. Out of the sleepy 7pm back outs of events. We come to keep it real. To make sure humor and friendship happens. To make sure we return home burnt out on laughing and sharing that embarrassing part you thought you would never share. In short, the mob brings you back home happy and human again.

I really enjoy doing the collecting of people. I have never been quite so inventive as with the Preschool Mafia, though. I mean, I approach situations in the mob complete with a Koolaid door kick down and Little Tikes wiffle bat. Otherwise it is more of the: 

I'll come get you. 

Seriously. 

No It is no problem. 

NO! 

I will come get you. 

Yes! 

We can leave early. 

Not a problem. 

And then I roll in there and collect my pal and we both know with my hearty dance number upon their porch that there is no returning early.

Because we need this. We need O-U-T. We need laughter. We need understanding and disgusting and vulnerable and hilarious. We need our girlfriends. We need to swap stories and to add on to stories and to then sensationalize stories to make sure they are brought to great heights and then are dead and buried so we can go on to the next story. We need aching jaws from laughing. We need chuckles in random places while we do the mundane as we remember the crap we said. We need salty this and sugary that and drinks- alcoholic or not. And we need heads nodding and hands covering mouths and fists slamming down on tables.

I love the ladies in my life. But what I love most about the Preschool Mafia is that all we had in common was a 9am drop off and a 3:30 pick up and thank friggin the lord for that.