Last night, we had some friends over for dinner. Other than the fact that I totally stress about my house being a mess, my kids acting like total hooligans and my cooking not being quite good enough, I love having company. As a good southern girl, how to be a good hostess is something that has been ingrained into my DNA. Seriously, being a bad hostess will get your pearls yanked. Every time that I have to play the hostess, I always recall the best hostess I've ever encountered and try my best to be like her.
Miss Molly was the wife of my mom's boss. Every Christmas, they hosted a fancy dinner at their beautiful home. My mom's boss had been a bigwig in a major corporation at one point in time, so they had more money than anyone I've ever known. Their home was beautiful, the meal was elaborate and I was (still am) the world's pickiest eater. There was no way in the world that I was going to be convinced to touch whatever it was that Miss Molly had presented to us for dinner. So, I did what I always did in those situations. I politely pretended I had eaten something by pushing my food creatively around my plate. Well, Miss Molly noticed. I believe my mother was mortified when Miss Molly quietly asked me if I would like a peanut butter sandwich and I accepted. This beautiful woman took me by the hand, and, in the middle of her huge sparkly kitchen with a smile on her face, made me a peanut butter sandwich. She didn't make a big deal out of it, she just did it.
You see, as a hostess, her goal was that everyone leave her house happy. If she had let me walk out of there without eating, I wouldn't have been happy. Granted, I was used to it. But thanks to her and her peanut butter sandwich, I learned a lesson that I carry with me to this day. When you are hosting people in your home, it is your job to make sure they are happy. If that means whipping out the peanut butter, then so be it.
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