Autumn Anecdotal [Reprised]

A Semi—scratch that—Totally Insane Narrative

Hey everyone, it’s Monday! Are you ready to conquer the brand new week? Are your ducks in a row and is your goose in the oven?

Me, neither.

And anyway, I think my goose is already cooked.

The school kids and all their…stuff has us hopping. Seriously, I do not love our big white barge that much to be spending this much time within it. For example. Saturday was a perfect storm of weekend chores and sports, with one kid needing to be at cross country at 8:00; another needing to be picked up from a sleep-over and transported to soccer by 10:00; and a third with a soccer game at 11:30.

All this in the pouring rain.

And with a baby and fractious 4-year-old, to boot.

Seriously, what is up with the fractious 4-year-old? His primary goal for the day—indeed, for his entire life—seems to be fighting with his sister over iPad privileges.

“IT’S JUST A GAME,” I tell them between clenched teeth. “We’re talking plants. And zombies. It’s just a GAME.”

Well, thank goodness for the 14-year-old, who opted out of sports this season. He trundled downstairs, bleary-eyed but good-natured, wrapped in his Vikings comforter, prepared to be my sentry. My husband flew out the door for Cate’s soccer tourney while I did Joe’s cross country pick-up and got Felicity to her soccer game.

All this in the pouring rain.

And with a swarm of fruit flies hovering over our counter, to boot.

Is it any wonder that, by the time we made it to our last “To Do” of the day–supper with friends from my sons’ school–I felt frazzled but ready to finally(!) relax.  I walked in and was handed a Corona with lime; the kids ran off to play; the house smelled amazing.

Ed. Note: You must make make these potatoes. End of story. Go buy the stuff.

I had to give the parents credit for having us all over. Five of their six kids are already grown and gone,  leaving one 9th grade son who is in my Jem’s class. Oh, and get this: their beautiful daughter (a college freshman at the University of Mary) was home for the weekend. In other words:  I got the lowdown on this college, girlfriend! It sounds like it’s a good, good school.

So anyway, yeah, it was good to be there. And yet…and YET…

Just when I thought it was okay to relax, as we were sitting down to grilled chicken & venison & salad & garlic bread & those amazing potatoes I’ve already mentioned…

The hostess noticed we were short a plate.

“Oh!” she said. “I didn’t set the table for your daughter, because you said that she was going bowling tonight.”

!!!

I’d completely forgotten about Cate’s class party–about RSVPing “yes” and agreeing to carpool with another family. Completely. FORGOTTEN. Hastily, I called the mom who laughed, “Yeah, we sat in your driveway for, like, ten minutes. We thought there was a family emergency or something!”

Note that I said that the mom was laughing.

So grateful that this mom was laughing.

Long story short [not really] we survived the evening. Are you kidding? It was wonderful. Toward the end of the evening, as the adults were sitting down to some dessert, (I’d brought blackberry cobbler in honor of Sunday’s feast),  George came charging into the room. They’d been playing dress-up and he looked…how shall I put this? Like a pint-sized Medieval John Travolta,  in  a woman’s glitzy  fabric jacket complete with bright blue sequins and shoulder pads.

“It’s Disco Man!” I said, and we laughed, as he brandished his nerf gun and [tried to] look fierce.

Later, I passed by George in the hall, and the kid shot me pointblank with that nerf gun. “Hey,” I protested. “What’s up with that?!”

“That’s for calling me ‘Disco Man.'”

Those little moments, those little laughs. They are what’s getting me through this crazy busy season.