When Even Steven opens one door...he slams shut another. And another. And another.
This weekend is the state youth bowling tournament for The Pony. He goes every year. Anybody in a league who is a member of the bowling association can enter. Last year, The Pony kind of got cheated. The #1 son was being recognized by Missouri Scholars 100 on the same weekend, and we went to Columbia with him while The Pony stayed with his grandma. The bowling tournament is not too far away this year, but far enough that Farmer H and The Pony are staying overnight.
Even though I will be without my shopping helper for the third weekend in a row, I was kind of looking forward to some quiet time. I've been planning on it for a few weeks now, ever since I made their reservation. Nobody to answer to when they can't find stuff. Nobody to prepare meals for. Nobody to drive around for school functions. I can laze about until late morning, or stay up into the wee hours. Just relaxing. Writing. Catching up on my DVRed shows. OR, I could put the Friday afternoon bill-paying trip off until Saturday, and take my mom along and stop for lunch. The possibilities are endless.
Were endless. The #1 son reports that he will be coming home for the second weekend in a row. And he's bringing a friend. You know what that means. I have to be presentable. Like, comb my hair. Wear real pants instead of the sweatpants that have developed a hole in the left hip area near the waistband. Put on a regular town shirt instead of my stained pinstripe affair. Leave my bright red Crocs parked beside the rocking chair. Oh, and the boys will be requiring one meal, but #1 doesn't know what kind of food they want. He thinks they are just coming for the day.
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE my #1 son. He is welcome in our Mansion any time. But since he's only been back twice since Christmas, I was a bit surprised. It's the lure of the darkroom. He did not have time on Easter weekend to develop his pictures. So here he comes again. And I will welcome him with open arms to embarrass him in front of his friend.
Maybe I can eke out some ME TIME on Sunday morning, before Farmer H and The Pony return. IF I do the shopping Saturday morning, and pencil Mom into the Friday afternoon bill-paying trip.
I really wanted to do some writing without interruption.
HM--Ooops. Don't publish my earlier comment. I was writing to a different nutty blogging friend, and got you mixed up with someone else.
ReplyDeleteI am soooo sorry.
Sioux,
ReplyDeleteFunny how that comment to a DIFFERENT nutty blogging friend could have also applied to ME!
Like how I can't hold a job, so I've had many. And how I don't like to cook. What a curious incident of blogger-confusion in the early morning!
Your apology is accepted, Sir. I mean Madam.
I know what you mean about the alone time. I get too much of it in the winter months and long for it during our busy time. That being said, the opportunity to see and humiliate a child nixes it all!
ReplyDeleteKathy,
ReplyDeleteWell, you have a point there!