Sorry for the lack of posts this week! Sickness stole my creative gene for a while…
Here is how the week leading up to the party went:
9:00 AM: Mother tells me that the chicken needs to be cooked. Like, now. I have a panic attack and somehow convince her to let me cook the soup today, but we won’t eat it until Thursday.
7:00 PM: I finally start getting the soup ready and have multiple moments of anger, confusion, and all-out madness as I try to understand the recipe and the MULTIPLE changes my mom thinks “we” need to make (please note that I am the one who is supposed to be making this soup. I am the one who found the recipe in the first place).
7:00 AM: Karen comes to tell me in a terrible stage whisper that the previous night, Mother asked her if I was planning anything like a surprise party. I freak out because Karen is not the best secret-keeping (she has guilt issues). However, Karen reassured me by telling me that she told Mother that we just wanted to make her a special birthday dinner. I am pleased. My devious-ness seems to have passed on to her, at last.
8:30 AM: I tell Mother what Karen told me, adding, “I’m sorry we didn’t try to do a party. We just figured a special dinner would be nice.” She falls for it.
ALL DAY: I finalize the guest list (or so I think) and work on getting everyone to the right place at the right time.
1:00 PM: I take Karen and Sydney to our grandparents to make mother’s cake.
1:15 PM: I arrive at Kroger to get onions for the other soup and to purchase the flowers we decided to get Mother for her birthday.
1:30 PM: After finally choosing some flowers and grabbing a vase, I realize that I have no more hands. And no one is at the flower counter to check me out. Hysteria sets in. I start thinking things like, “There’s some flower food. Do I need flower food? How many times will the girls mention that two of the colors of flowers I picked out are the team colors of Alabama’s sworn enemy? (LSU, just in case you were wondering).” And so forth.
1:40 PM: Eventually, I make it to the self-checkout and notice that the flowers are top-heavy, so the bag keeps falling over. Tears threaten. This is so much harder than it should be. Finally, flowers in one hand and the vase in another, I walk out of the store.
1:45 PM: It’s pouring rain.
1:48 PM: I’m in the car again, breathing heavily, just in time to hear my phone ring.
1:55 PM: I get back to the house and am about to sneak the flowers inside when I see that Mother and her guest are IN THE KITCHEN. The same kitchen that I have to walk through to get to my room.
1:57 PM: I nicely ask Mother to move to the den.
2:00 PM: I wrestle the flowers and vase out of the car and sneak not-so-quietly to my room. A towel is spread on the floor and I work like mad to cut the stems of the flowers and arrange them just so in the two vases.
2:15 PM: I still have flowers left. Inspiration hits! My grandmother. I can give them to my grandmother as a thank-you for her help with the cake.
2:20 PM: Chocolate cupcakes are being thrown together because I’m worried about the cake and how it will look. My mom doesn’t ask questions because I tell her that the girls and I will want cake and we don’t like butter pecan.
2:45 PM: The girls are ready to be picked up. They tell me the cake kinda died and they had to glue it together with frosting. My heart sinks.
2:46 PM: The cake is ok. It’s still raining and all I want to do is go home and curl up in a corner. But no! I have to go to the store for MORE THINGS.
2:55 PM: The girls and I arrive at the store, and I remember that we need a card. Karen gets the food, Sydney and I pick up a card, and we sprint back home.
3:30 PM: I’m sitting on the couch eating pizza and watching The Six Million Dollar Man because my brain is about to explode from the stress of it all. Even my mom can sense it because she nicely offered to frost the cupcakes for me. I let her.
5:15 PM: Time to get ready for church!
8:00 PM: I see someone at church. OH CRUD. I totally forgot to invite this lady. I run her down, explain the situation, and am happy to see her accept the invitation. Whew.
10:30 PM: Bed.
If I thought Wednesday was crazy, it was a good thing I couldn’t see the future. Thursday was still to come.