Hollywood Comes to Town

The phone rang at its usual time, 5:09 p.m., with my husband calling to tell me he was on his way home. I nodded my approval while keeping one eye on a pot of boiling potatoes and the other on Ana and Shelby, who were perched atop the kitchen counter making a serious mess of themselves with teething biscuits. I nearly hung up when it registered what John had said, "Wait! What time did you say?...TONIGHT?...Uh, okay." Holy S$#!? We were having dinner guests in an hour? And worse, unmarried dinner guests with no kids, who work in Hollywood. Oh boy, I surveyed the tornado in my living room, peeked into the toothpaste spattered bathroom with every bath toy scattered from here to next Tuesday and took a deep breath. You see, most normal people would take this all in stride and say to hell with it, this is how we live, this is us, take it or leave it. And I really want to be that person. EXCEPT, I find that if I am that person for the next hour leading up to the arrival of our guests, the minute they walk in the door I can't stop my busy hands from picking up toys off the floor, folding strewn blankets and clothes as I nod my head and act like I'm listening to their conversation when the reality is I won't stop until I've converted my house into a spotless masterpiece before their very eyes. So, with 47 minutes to go I pull out my super hero cape and race around the house at lightning speed picking up the floor and shoving everything into the hall closet. Chicken's in the oven, salad's made, bathroom won't pass a health inspection but appears clean enough, the kids have been hosed down and dressed in semi fashionable pajamas, and that's when I glance in the mirror to do a once over. It occurs to me that I haven't washed my hair in three days. Pull the grease strands into a tight bun, check. Perfume. Check. Earrings (this always makes me feel dressed up). John's home and I'm firing directions at him. Take out the trash! Set the table, Feed the baby, brush her teeth. No, not the baby's teeth! Ugh. Gotta run, guests are here.

1 comment:

JO said...

At least you had some brand new kick-ass clothes to wear!