It's 8:00 p.m. and I am bored out of my head.
That is probably the dumbest statement I have ever made. Just having written it means that any minute now there will be some kind of tornado explosion downstairs, thus ending my boredom. Given that we have an extra "guest" tornado this evening, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already.
Which brings me to my topic du jour: friends of the children.
Now just calm down, I'm not about to skewer anybody else's kids. I have some boundaries. Really, I have a question to ask, which is this: Is it really best to be The House Where the Kids Hang Out? Because practically every parent that I have asked this of in person has answered with an unhesitating "Oh, absolutely!" And I have to say: really?
Because I was thinking I could catch up on my TiVo tonight, maybe over a glass of wine or two, while the kids played a quiet game of backgammon at the kitchen table, or read the Bible to each other or something.
Instead, I am up here in my room, recovering from the fumes of their spilled nail polish remover (result of the obligatory sleepover makeovers), my feet vibrating from the beat of the music downstairs (the obligatory sleepover dance-off), with no television and no wine. I suppose I could go get the wine, but I always wonder about the appropriateness of wine when we have guest tornadoes. But it probably won't prevent me from getting the wine.
I always end up unwittingly surrendering three-quarters of the house to the tornadoes when they have friends over. And it's not like I don't hang out with them at all - please, let's not sound that alarm. If tornadoes were moths, then I have been a big old fiery beacon since noontime. I amazed them with my coolness - singing along to their music and getting all the words right, kicking their butts at "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader" (turns out I am, HA!), serving up the Best Snacks That Don't Involve Cheese Ever. Your standard "I love coming to your house" guest fare.
Right up until I hit the wall an hour or so ago and wanted to shrink into the tiniest space imaginable, lest they find me.
And now it appears from the shrill cries in the distance that the explosion has begun. Something about the kitten being stuck somewhere - no doubt the kitten is also trying to become invisible, but never mind. I have to get the wine, anyway.
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4 comments:
The humiliation of losing to them at "Are you smarter than a fifth grader" would have driven you to your room for an entirely different reason. I am glad you trounced them and do hope that there was an "in your face" victory dance at the end.
On a related note, if you have these sleepovers often, you may want to consider a little mini-fridge for you room. Stock it with splits of wine and you can get blizted without having to leave the safety of your hiding place.
There must be some reason why my friends don't let me babysit their children. If I could only figure out why...
Oops! "for your room" -- apparently, i am not smarter than a fifth grader.
Its a blessing and a curse to be the 'cool house.'
You have to deal with the chaos, but you also get to be a part of their friends lives and in some small way, shape the type of group that they grow up to be.
Plus you can keep the boys away from them until they turn 30.
~Alex
Hey Theresa,
I was just catching up with your blog.........Very cool.......Definitly go for the wine...... :)
Sheryl
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