During the previous school year, in my zeal to get the whole
family exercising, we all walked Kate to school several days a week. With our varied ages, skill levels, and time
schedule, our “walk” was usually a combination of bicycles, scooters,
rollerblades, and a stroller. Many
mornings after delivering Kate to her classroom, Jack, Rock and I sat against
the elementary school chain link fence watching the first physical education
class of the day. As the PE teacher blew her whistle, kids would
run a lap around the field. The boys and
I cheered and clapped for children we knew as they ran by us.
Many mornings, we watched one very speedy, athletic
girl: Little Ms. R.
I have been casually acquainted with the R. family for five
or six years now. We attend the same
church and Mrs. R and I have been in the same book club for several years. I could say I “admire” Mrs. R., but the truth
is, I covet one of her many talents: she
is an amazing interior decorator. Not
only is her home beautifully decorated, I’ve seen magically transform some mutual
friends’ homes too. If I didn’t like Mrs.
R. so much, I don’t think I would let her in my embarrassingly undecorated
house.
Prior to Sunday dinner, I don’t know if I had ever spoken to
Mr. R. However, while rattling through
the usual dinner conversation questions, I learned that Mr. R. and I attended
the same college, the same freshman year, in the same cluster of dormitory buildings. I dusted off ‘ole yearbook and we laughed at
our mug shots from 20 years ago.
For dinner I served grilled chicken kabobs, veggie kabobs,
au gratin potatoes, sweet potato casserole, fresh corn salad, rolls, and
fruit. Mrs. R. brought a tasty cream pie for dessert which was quickly devoured by everyone.
A few minutes into dinner, Rock had eaten one roll, picked
at his chicken and then told me he had a stomach ache. I gave him my standard response,
“Okay, then go lay on
the couch for a while…”
Two minutes later, I look over at Rock on the couch and he
is dead asleep. I carried him up to bed and he didn’t wake up again until Monday.
After a short meal, Jack and Little Mr. R. ran upstairs to
Jack’s room and played Legos for the next several hours. Jack had such a good time he peed in his
pants from laughing too much.
As the adults talked around the kitchen table, I learned other
interesting factoids about Mr. R. For
example, he’s handy--really handy. He
has a degree in construction management and his own contracting company. I also learned that Mr. R. has his pilot’s
license, likes to eat meat, and enjoys talking about business. Ryan and Mr. R. began a deep discussion on
business management which we had to break up later so the R. Family could go
home.
This Sunday dinner almost didn’t happen. Only five hours before the R. Family was
scheduled to arrive, Ryan and I were returning from a trip to San Diego and picking
up the kids from their grandparents’ house.
I prepared the meal and cleaned the house in a delirious haze. While shredding potatoes, I almost started
crying out of pure exhaustion. My bedroom
looked like a typhoon of clothes, suitcases, and pillows and I badly needed a
shower.
Special thanks must be paid to my amazing husband for
skewering the meat and veggies while I showered and dressed. And really, who cares if he accidentally left
the grill on for the next 24 hours, consequently running up our gas bill, and
leaving a 700 degree box of hot metal to potentially ignite our entire back
yard?
No real harm done.
I'll take his help anytime.
