I had big plans today.
I went to bed early last night with a big, bad attitude.
I was weak and weary, as my Mama would say.
My small peeps conspired against me for 13 hours straight and by the end of it all, I pictured myself like some kind of a frazzled caricature of myself - zany hair, eyeballs spinning in their sockets, zig-zags and curly-cues radiating off my body in flourescent ink.
It was bad.
But I knew today would be brighter, because company was due. Not just any kind of company, but the kind of company that promises to arrive in a flannel nightgown just to make me happy.
We pinky-promised that we wouldn't even shower.
We pinky-promised that deodorant was acceptable, and even advisable.
In the past, I have served said company a packaged granola bar and two versions of tough-bean soup. But on this day, the meal would turn out right, I was sure of it.
And if not, well, I had already set the bar pretty low, so I knew she wouldn't mind.
And then, the snow swept through her part of the state. The ice accumulated.
Mother Nature shant be trusted.
Our visit was a no-go.
I was so depressed, I showered.
Then Plan B arose from the ashes.
My sister-in-law rescued me and we spent the entire day at her house, along with EIGHT small children. Before long, my two other SILs arrived, along with my BIL, who wrestled the boys and played hide-and-seek while us girls sat at the table, just because we could.
Tonight Calvin asked, "What were you talking about in the kitchen? Cooking and magazines?"
If it's true that children view the broad female population through Mommy lenses, my kids see every lady in the land with a spatula in one hand and a magazine in the other. There are worse things, I suppose.
Tonight, I am plum worn out again from two very long days with three very nap-opposed children. But today, my misery sure did love its company.
And as for Flannel Flo? We've scheduled a rain date.