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| Fallen tree branch |
With a long list of things to do before my friends came over, I started ticking things off one at a time; grocery shopping, gym, moving old furniture, showering and cooking. Notice I didn't list cleaning the house, that's because I never made it to that point on the list. So my friends came over to a house that was barely surface clean.
Before I could put the food in the oven, I needed to clean it out with a concoction of vinegar and baking soda because the day before I accidentally spilled bacon fat onto the oven floor, making the house fill with smoke and a bizarre fish odor. With my head in the oven, I chatted with my friends, all the time thinking, "Why do I even bother trying to maintain a social life when it ends up being a pain in the ass?" After that mess was quickly cleaned, the food started to cook.
When we sat down to eat, they asked for napkins. I searched the cabinets, but couldn't find a single one, not even a Starbucks napkin I usually stash in the junk drawer. I told them I meant to buy napkins at the store while grocery shopping, and forgot to, which was a lie. We are dish towel people, and even if we dirty 15 a day, I don't mind. I am not sure how we exist without buying paper towels and napkins, since there is a common unfathomable reaction from people. "You mean you don't buy paper towels?" "No, I don't. I have towels I use to clean, I have towels for cooking, and I have towels to use when eating." It's not a complicated system, but for some reason it has people thinking were back woods.
When my friends decided to pack up and leave, Kiki and I followed them out to give enthusiastic farewell waves, like their black car was the Titanic setting course. I figured our pathetic display of hostessing would get us out of any obligation to hang out for a while, but no such luck, and she mentioned meeting up next weekend.
After Kiki was asleep, I cleaned the house to the state it should have been in before my friends showed up, and called my sister to gab on the phone. I told her how my my dinner party was the worst example of entertaining, a word I've picked up from watching loads of House Hunters, but yet my friend stills wants to hang out next weekend. My sister said, "she was probably happy to see someone who is in a bigger state of chaos then herself. The last thing a mom wants to see after working a 50 hour week is a person who seems to be doing it all, plus some, much better. You're making her feel good about herself."
Maybe if I left the branch, I could have put on a better dinner party for my guests, but I had a call of the wild. Hacking away at the tree felt amazing. I might not have been the perfect Beverly Hills wife, but I was definitely A Cracker Jack Wilderness Girl. I forgot to buy napkins, but it really just added to the ambiance, that were all roughing it.
Before I could put the food in the oven, I needed to clean it out with a concoction of vinegar and baking soda because the day before I accidentally spilled bacon fat onto the oven floor, making the house fill with smoke and a bizarre fish odor. With my head in the oven, I chatted with my friends, all the time thinking, "Why do I even bother trying to maintain a social life when it ends up being a pain in the ass?" After that mess was quickly cleaned, the food started to cook.
When we sat down to eat, they asked for napkins. I searched the cabinets, but couldn't find a single one, not even a Starbucks napkin I usually stash in the junk drawer. I told them I meant to buy napkins at the store while grocery shopping, and forgot to, which was a lie. We are dish towel people, and even if we dirty 15 a day, I don't mind. I am not sure how we exist without buying paper towels and napkins, since there is a common unfathomable reaction from people. "You mean you don't buy paper towels?" "No, I don't. I have towels I use to clean, I have towels for cooking, and I have towels to use when eating." It's not a complicated system, but for some reason it has people thinking were back woods.
When my friends decided to pack up and leave, Kiki and I followed them out to give enthusiastic farewell waves, like their black car was the Titanic setting course. I figured our pathetic display of hostessing would get us out of any obligation to hang out for a while, but no such luck, and she mentioned meeting up next weekend.
After Kiki was asleep, I cleaned the house to the state it should have been in before my friends showed up, and called my sister to gab on the phone. I told her how my my dinner party was the worst example of entertaining, a word I've picked up from watching loads of House Hunters, but yet my friend stills wants to hang out next weekend. My sister said, "she was probably happy to see someone who is in a bigger state of chaos then herself. The last thing a mom wants to see after working a 50 hour week is a person who seems to be doing it all, plus some, much better. You're making her feel good about herself."
Maybe if I left the branch, I could have put on a better dinner party for my guests, but I had a call of the wild. Hacking away at the tree felt amazing. I might not have been the perfect Beverly Hills wife, but I was definitely A Cracker Jack Wilderness Girl. I forgot to buy napkins, but it really just added to the ambiance, that were all roughing it.
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| Another Troop Beverly Hills reference, "He permed me!" |
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