Another Great Idea
I say to my husband, "You know, my friend is so depressed. I think I should take her out to dinner at Olive Garden. We still have that gift card with $18 on it."
He says to me, "Great idea. Her husband is planning to watch the Miami game tonight, so tonight would be a perfect time."
I say, "But they don't have a television. How is he going to watch the game?"
He says, "I don't know. I'll call him."
Before I know it, my husband has invited this couple and their two year old over to watch the game at 5:00 p.m. At 7:30 p.m., after I put Grace to bed, my friend and I are supposed to leave the guys with the kids and go to dinner.
Only, my friend calls at 1:20 p.m. and mentions that she'd really like to watch the whole game (she and her husband met at the University of Miami--she was his calculus tutor).
So, my innocent remark about going to dinner with my friend turned into a three hour sweaty frenzy of house-cleaning and frantic de-cluttering and even a little bit of ironing. Oh, and I still have kids to take care of in the midst of all that. I was vacuuming--actually pausing in my vacuuming--when my DaycareMom quietly entered the house (she usually comes through the house without knocking because we're often in the backyard playing when she arrives) and I'm terrified that she overheard me muttering to myself about my husband's brilliant plan in inviting people over to our home at 5:00 p.m. with practically no warning.
I said to her, "Oh hi!" And thought, Please someone, just shoot me now.
When she left, I continued my crazed cleaning spree. I scrubbed two bathrooms, top to bottom, vacuumed, picked up loads of stuff and relocated it to its proper location, did dishes (again!), swept and mopped, picked up toys, dusted the television and my computer, found batteries for the remote control, took out trash, put newspapers in the recycling bin. Fortunately, my husband picked up take-and-bake pizza, so I didn't have to worry about dinner, but still. I was a glistening, stressed-out mess by 5:00 p.m.
I stood in front of our new oscillating fan in the bedroom to try to cool down, put on some make-up, calmed my bangs, changed into a clean shirt and greeted my guests. The evening went surprisingly well--sometimes Babygirl is less than friendly, but she and our friend's almost-2-year-old had a blast, running--literally--in circles and screaming with laughter. My twins watched the game, mostly. TwinBoyA talks non-stop. He would be a great commentator. There would never be any dead air with this kid behind the microphone.
Before the game ended, I took Babygirl up to bed. She was outraged that I insisted she wear a diaper and pajamas to bed. She's become devoted to being unclothed at all times. When I stood her up to zip up the jammies, with tears still wet on her cheeks, she said, "I am so sad." I love how she can express her feelings verbally. She says "mad," "sad," "scared" and "happy."
I thought I might go to Target when the game ended, but wouldn't you know, it went into overtime and then Miami won! Our friends did a great deal of hollering, which my boys joined in on.
I decided it was too late to shop.
But it's not too late to comment about a couple of names. Check out Craphonso. Now seriously. What mother names her child CRAPhonso? I understand it's pronounced "Crafonzo", but honestly, what's next? A kid named Shitella (pronounced SHY-tella, of course)?
I thought of some other funny names, too. Remember awhile back when I posted about unfortunate names? Well, here is a perfect name: the janitor at my son's primary school is named Mr. Broom. No kidding! Oh, and my husband once went to a chiropractor named Dr. Looney.
My sixth grade art teacher was named Mr. Wise, but he had a hair growing directly out of the tip of his nose. In his class, we had to create a clay sculpture of an animal. I made the ugliest penguin that has ever existed, primarly because I couldn't figure out how to make an animal with actual legs, like a deer or a dog. My mother probably still has that wretched figurine somewhere. We also spent a great deal of time copying comic strips in that classroom. And that was the class in which I slapped Jeff H across the face for making a lewd comment about my assets, which were unfortunately clothed in a t-shirt featuring a large picture of two cherries.
After that, I wore my down coat during school, even though Jeff H never tortured me again.
He says to me, "Great idea. Her husband is planning to watch the Miami game tonight, so tonight would be a perfect time."
I say, "But they don't have a television. How is he going to watch the game?"
He says, "I don't know. I'll call him."
Before I know it, my husband has invited this couple and their two year old over to watch the game at 5:00 p.m. At 7:30 p.m., after I put Grace to bed, my friend and I are supposed to leave the guys with the kids and go to dinner.
Only, my friend calls at 1:20 p.m. and mentions that she'd really like to watch the whole game (she and her husband met at the University of Miami--she was his calculus tutor).
So, my innocent remark about going to dinner with my friend turned into a three hour sweaty frenzy of house-cleaning and frantic de-cluttering and even a little bit of ironing. Oh, and I still have kids to take care of in the midst of all that. I was vacuuming--actually pausing in my vacuuming--when my DaycareMom quietly entered the house (she usually comes through the house without knocking because we're often in the backyard playing when she arrives) and I'm terrified that she overheard me muttering to myself about my husband's brilliant plan in inviting people over to our home at 5:00 p.m. with practically no warning.
I said to her, "Oh hi!" And thought, Please someone, just shoot me now.
When she left, I continued my crazed cleaning spree. I scrubbed two bathrooms, top to bottom, vacuumed, picked up loads of stuff and relocated it to its proper location, did dishes (again!), swept and mopped, picked up toys, dusted the television and my computer, found batteries for the remote control, took out trash, put newspapers in the recycling bin. Fortunately, my husband picked up take-and-bake pizza, so I didn't have to worry about dinner, but still. I was a glistening, stressed-out mess by 5:00 p.m.
I stood in front of our new oscillating fan in the bedroom to try to cool down, put on some make-up, calmed my bangs, changed into a clean shirt and greeted my guests. The evening went surprisingly well--sometimes Babygirl is less than friendly, but she and our friend's almost-2-year-old had a blast, running--literally--in circles and screaming with laughter. My twins watched the game, mostly. TwinBoyA talks non-stop. He would be a great commentator. There would never be any dead air with this kid behind the microphone.
Before the game ended, I took Babygirl up to bed. She was outraged that I insisted she wear a diaper and pajamas to bed. She's become devoted to being unclothed at all times. When I stood her up to zip up the jammies, with tears still wet on her cheeks, she said, "I am so sad." I love how she can express her feelings verbally. She says "mad," "sad," "scared" and "happy."
I thought I might go to Target when the game ended, but wouldn't you know, it went into overtime and then Miami won! Our friends did a great deal of hollering, which my boys joined in on.
I decided it was too late to shop.
But it's not too late to comment about a couple of names. Check out Craphonso. Now seriously. What mother names her child CRAPhonso? I understand it's pronounced "Crafonzo", but honestly, what's next? A kid named Shitella (pronounced SHY-tella, of course)?
I thought of some other funny names, too. Remember awhile back when I posted about unfortunate names? Well, here is a perfect name: the janitor at my son's primary school is named Mr. Broom. No kidding! Oh, and my husband once went to a chiropractor named Dr. Looney.
My sixth grade art teacher was named Mr. Wise, but he had a hair growing directly out of the tip of his nose. In his class, we had to create a clay sculpture of an animal. I made the ugliest penguin that has ever existed, primarly because I couldn't figure out how to make an animal with actual legs, like a deer or a dog. My mother probably still has that wretched figurine somewhere. We also spent a great deal of time copying comic strips in that classroom. And that was the class in which I slapped Jeff H across the face for making a lewd comment about my assets, which were unfortunately clothed in a t-shirt featuring a large picture of two cherries.
After that, I wore my down coat during school, even though Jeff H never tortured me again.
posted by Melodee at Friday, September 10, 2004
4 Comments:
Your hubby must be thinking "hmmmm, I invite people over at the last minute and Mel goes crazy cleaning the house....hmmmmm" I betcha he thinks he's on to something ;o) You did a much better job than I coulda done!
On the positive side, it's the weekend and your house is already clean.
Wendy and I were laughing about Craphonso also! I kinda hope it's a family name and not something his mother just made up. Don't folks realize how important a name is? Whew. Crap-honso. Just too much!
I'm at the point here, where I need to invite someone over just to have that added pressure to get some things done.
Sounds like you had a nice time!
~Tina
Krunch, it is highly likely that the Jeff you speak of is not the Jeff I speak of. It's also likely that Jeff has no recollection of me at all as I was an invisible person at middle school age and perhaps he harrassed so many girls that he can't remember any specific ones. I certainly didn't make it up!
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