I Dream of Genie? Not Really.

We are a fun-loving group of friends. We've known each other forever. We've worn ridiculous costumes (why, we just dressed like grannies and mooned our friend with diaper-covered adult butts that had letters that spelled out her name). We've partied. We've puked. We've laughed. We've cried. All together.

Each year we attend the school auction. We've dressed in sarongs, togas, wigs, cowboy garb and more. We are a spectacle. We are spirited. We have a wild and crazy time.

This year, I was hoping for a little black dress, some simple shoes and passing the torch to some other crazy kids. Nope. I was just informed that my husband and his friends are dressing as sultans.

My friend turned to me and said, "You know what that means..." No, I'm not sure what that means. I kept quiet. "We have to be harem girls."

Yikes. A harem girl? Seriously, I am waaaaayyyyy too old for this. A genie? A scantily clad harem girl? I am 42 for goodness sake.

Part of me can't refuse the challenge. Part of me is quite sure that there ain't enough Spanx in the world that can make this old gal fit for a harem. Jinkies, Thelma, what's a girl to do?

She goes out and finds a harem outfit. Stay tuned for pictures of our 9th school auction. Still crazy after all these years.