Basket B-I-N-G-O

There was a girl in Northern Virginia; Alison was her name-o.

She got roped into going somewhere very, very lame-o.

(Basket) B-I-N-G-O, (Basket) B-I-N-G-O, (Basket) B-I-N-G-O

Basket Bingo is really lame-o.

I penned this little ditty prior to our excursion to the PTA Basket Bingo Night at Caroline's school.

If you couldn't tell, I wasn't exactly super enthused about going. When I think about Bingo, I think about the 60 and over crowd, filling the plethora of Bingo halls that are scattered around my former youthful stomping grounds in the state of Florida. If you've ever been to Citrus County, Florida, you know what I'm talking about. I've only played Bingo once. It was March 1995; my friend had just turned 18 and she was eager to join her mother and grandma in her inaugural game of Bingo. She was excited to be of official gambling age; to sit among the blue haired chain smokers and dab her bingo cards until her heart was filled with joy, her purse filled with cash earnings and her lungs filled with second hand smoke.

I almost won $250 that night.

Almost.

Evidently, you have to wait for the number ball to appear on the television screen before you yell BINGO! I listened to the rules beforehand; I knew that. I had Bingo, but my friend hurried me into calling it, even though the ball wasn't on the screen yet. I always do as I'm told, so I called it. And I didn't win. Because I didn't follow the rules.

I left that Bingo hall, dejected, smelling like I chain smoked for 72 hours straight and NOT $250 richer.

As it turns out, Basket Bingo wasn't lame at all.
And why wasn't it lame, you might be wondering?

Well, it wasn't lame because I won a door prize!

Oh, and, to make things even more exciting, there was a Vera Bradley explosion in that cafagymnatorium last night. In case you were wondering, I love Vera Bradley.

I didn't win any of the Bingo game prizes, which were various sized Vera Bradley bags or Longaberger baskets stuffed with goodies: arts and crafts, scrapbooking supplies, spa stuff, gardening stuff, family fun goodies.

I would have loved to have won a Vera Bradley tote bag, but, on the bright side, I won a door prize. Aside from the bottle of wine I won when I was 12, I NEVER win anything.

Needless to say, when my name was called during the door prize raffle, I was pleasantly surprised. The best part was that I could choose what I wanted; I wasn't just offered some generic gift. No baskets of offensively scented lotion and bubble bath, no beer can cozies, no dollar store candles.

Instead, I chose this:

Not bad, eh?

Caroline came up to the table with me to "help" me pick out my prize. As I spotted the stoneware baker, she said, "but I want the hat." To which I replied, "Too bad, I want this." Such a loving, generous mother.

Hey, I paid the $25, let her do all the Bingo-ing with the special little Bingo dabber AND went out at dark time AND stayed out until almost 10 pm.

I deserve the prize, right?

And, to top it all off, I received a few recipe requests for the goodies I provided for the bake sale.

I think it's safe to say that Basket Bingo wasn't lame at all.

It doesn't entirely make up for the fact that I didn't win $250 15 years ago, but I'll take what I can get.