High Rollers

One of Ross's long life ambitions has been to have a regular poker night. Not much of an ambition I guess, but something he has always wanted to do. Probably as a result of watching too many American sitcoms where the gang get together once a week and the little woman makes snacks then skidadals.
Tonight his ambition has come true. As he and his new friends play, I am hiding round the corner writing this.
The first thing we needed of course, was a poker table. In the end we managed to compromise. I refused to have one in the middle of my kitchen, so we ordered a very smart pub table instead. Of course with furniture delivery being what it is in this country, we'll be lucky to see it before Christmas, so in the meantime Ross decided to do it himself.
So, as I write, he, Neil, Mark, Biff and Matt are crowded around a plastic garden table covered with a piece of green felt he spent half the night stapling down.
My role in all this has been a bit strange. With no job I have taken on the mantel of Mrs Desperate Housewife big time. I'm embarrassed to confess I have spent the entire day baking snacks to fulfil Ross's somewhat chauvanistic ambition.
As usual I have made enough food for twenty people. It's a pity there are only five of them and from what I can see they don't seem too hungry.
I have home-made peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, tiny decorated chocolate muffins, even bruschettas with home-made pesto. The worst is probably the tiny cheese biscuits in the shape of hammers. It was the most macho cutter I could find in the local gourmet cook shop.
I had hoped that the players' partners would join me for a bitching session on the sofa. Oddly enough they had more important things to do - like working.
If I had one tiny fantasy about this myself it would be that they would opt to play strip poker. It would be just my luck that Ross would lose.