New York Tea.

I invited a few of the neighbors over for a New York Tea this afternoon. I called it a "New York Tea" because there was a New York-style, New York-made cheesecake from Manhattan's Carnegie Deli sitting in my freezer and just waiting to come out for a tea party.

My sister-in-law had sent it to us for the holidays, but I froze it as soon as it was delivered because we just had way too many sweets around the house at that time, and the cheesecake was too tempting. So into the freezer it went just before Christmas, along with a chocolate cheesecake (also from Carnegie) that came with it. Two cheesecakes-- too much all at once, that's for sure.

But the plain cheesecake came out of the freezer this morning, and by 3:30 this afternoon, it was perfect for tea time. The neighbors I invited had never tasted a cheesecake from the Carnegie Deli before, and now they know the difference between the "real thing" and the Texas-made cheesecakes that just pretend to be New York cheesecakes. I laugh every time I see that on a menu here-- "New York style cheesecake." It never, never is anything even close, and we've long since stopped ordering that in restaurants.

I had found little high-heel-shaped place cards in Marshall's after Christmas, and they were perfect for today's table. Silver high-heels with names written on them in pink-- and I made white miniature shoe boxes and filled them with chocolates, one at each place setting right next to those silver shoes. Very cute, very stylish, and very city-ish for a New York Tea.

Lots of laughs this afternoon-- mostly because of our down-the-street neighbor C telling us stories about the way her three sons are starting to treat her like a child. C always, always dresses very nicely when she goes out, whether it's going up the street or up to the mall. Her sons have started to ask her "What are you going to wear?" "What are you going to eat?" "Why are you driving there?" "What kind of food are you bringing to the party?"

C keeps reminding them that she is the mother, she is still in her right mind, she doesn't need a baby-sitter, and she doesn't need the sons she raised treating her as if she's six years old. Last week was C's birthday, and she told her youngest son that she didn't want a big party-- she just wanted to go to dinner with her sons and their families. "Just us," is what she told them.

Well, her youngest son wasn't listening. He invited just the family, but he also invited nearly thirty other people, half of whom C didn't want to be spending her birthday with. On the night they were supposed to go to dinner, C found out about all the other people and got so upset that she told her son to have the party without her because all she wanted was a quiet dinner. So that's just what she did-- she drove herself to a local restaurant and had a quiet dinner by herself and enjoyed every quiet bite.

C said she hated to do that to her son, but she said it was time that he learned a lesson. "When he asks me what I want, and then does the opposite, it's time for me to remind him that I am the mother and he is still my child."

C will be coming to our Valentine's party, and she said that her sons will probably ask her "What are you going to wear, mother?" She told us that they asked her that same question before she came here to our Christmas party in December. C is all ready for their question this time-- our neighbors J and V gave her an "outfit" to describe to her sons when they ask: "Black stiletto heels, fish-net stockings, a leather mini-skirt, a red bustier, and a pink-feathered boa." C was still rehearsing and repeating all of that as she left our house this afternoon.