preparedness is not my middle name

This weekend was to unofficial start to BBQ season, and a group of teachers that Rhiannon works with got together to celebrate being done with school.  It was an include-the-family type of affair. The guys played a game similar to horseshoes on the back lawn, the kids played in the sandbox and threw nerf balls at each other, and the women…  well, I guess the women stood around and talked, or whatever they do when men are involved in high stakes competition.

Most people in attendance had spouses and I think every other couple except us had children.  I did hear a little conversation about how the weekend was going and what summer plans involved, and we got the same comment over and over again.

We would mention something about sleeping in or taking a nap (even with the flooring project, it was still a weekend) and the response was “You obviously don’t have kids.”


Food consisted of quesadillas, chips and dip, some cheesecake cupcakes (I think we all know who made those) and assorted drinks – not exactly kid friendly food.  The hostess was more than prepared for this with corn dogs and orange slices.

When one of the two year olds decided she didn’t need orange slices with her corn dog, her dad was more than happy to finish them off of her plate for her.  It was fine until he was spotted eating them.

“Do you want more oranges?  I have more.”

“Uh… ok?”

And she was back, literally within 60 seconds, with at least two pounds of fresh orange slices on a plate.  Impressive.

I do well just to feed myself at times.  I hope any kids we have are happy with peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches and caramel, straight out of the jar.