Sunday, January 6, 2013
Why You Don't Really Want To Have Dinner With Me
Some of you have said you wish we could have coffee/lunch/dinner/salsa together and I couldn't agree more.
But it only seems fair to let you know what you're signing up for, should that day ever find us.
Last evening we discovered that we had tonight completely free. It crossed my mind to just loll around and relax, but then I remembered that it's more fun to loll around with friends. So we invited some over. "Come at 5:00! Dinner at 5:30. I'm making soup."
Then I proceeded to stay out until 1 a.m.
Not even playing.
It's one thing to stay up til 1 a.m. Another thing altogether to stay out until 1 a.m. For me, staying out means I need at least an hour to unwind once I'm home. And I might feel compelled to fold some laundry before bedding down.
I slept fitfully, dream-dancing to Sarah's karaoke renditions of "Cherish", "Hey Ya", "In Da Club" (big mistake), Sweet Child O' Mine, and the list goes on...
Something you should know: I do not dance. Nor do I karaoke. I'm shy, okay? And awkward.
The point is, morning was a slap in the face and we settled for family church in bed. Calvin quizzed us on Bible trivia, crafting each question carefully. "Ruby, what town was baby Jesus born in?" "Daddy, how many times did King Pharaoh not let God's people go?" (I totally did not know the answer to this and started getting nervous cause it was my turn next.) "Mommy, John 1 says 'The word was with God and the word was God.' What was the word?" I got all clammy in my pojammies. He seemed satisfied with my answer.
Then Silas led us in Jesus Loves the Little Children and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Ruby prayed that we would have a fun day tomorrow, which is what she prays every. single. time.
Hallelujah. We brought down the house.
Then we went out for tacos.
Cory headed for the jail with Ruby, Silas had his turn at Nanas, Calvin came home with me to get dinner started.
I made this bread, because it's just what I do. All the dang time. It makes me feel like Wonderwoman.
Then I retired for a "short nap".
When I woke up, it was 4:40. Company due in 20 minutes. Dinner not even started.
Long story short, the lone onion in the house was rotten.
Dinner was about an hour late.
The kids went off the grid and required emergency PB&Js.
Dinner was disorganized and on the couch.
I didn't help Timi serve her ahmazing dessert. (I think I shouted unhelpful things from the couch..."The spoons are all dirty!" "The bowls are over there!" "I'd like ice cream with mine!", etc...)
My kids were maniacs. The men were ever-so-slightly inappropriate.
At the end of the night, our dear guests confessed that our drinking glasses reeked of BO. We couldn't deny it.
(Note to self: Do not house plastic cups with the cumin or guests will tell you your drinking glasses reek of BO.)
Be honest, you're reconsidering now, aren't you?
I understand. Sadly, I do.
PS - The pickles have exactly nothing to do with this post, I'm simply paying tribute because it's only January and we're down to 2 quarts.
PSS - I need urban gardening tips, STAT!
PSSS - Gotta run. Mr. Carson beckons.