We had a Memorial Day BBQ over at our house with friends whose kids are about Katya’s age. This is how it went.
It’s 5! Shit. Everyone’s gonna be here and nothing’s done! What, they’re gonna be late? Thank God! How rude. Get the dishes done. Spray that green crap and see if it will come off. Get the dog food off the floor or Lola will eat it. No time to wipe the table from lunch we’ll just spread all the paper plates out. The effing pasta is still boiling and I can’t put it into the effing pasta salad yet! Door! Coco shut the eff up! Turn Mickey Mouse Club off! Hi!
Where’s Lola? Ok. Hand stuck in the kitty door so she’s immobile for a few. Where’s Noah? Dammit!! The ENTIRE roll of toilet paper?! Where are the cats? Sweetheart you can’t pick the kitty up by his tail, ok? Where’s Coco? Why is she outside on the neighbor’s porch? Katya, please stop singing Taylor Swift at the top of your lungs, PLEASE. Where’s Lola?
I forgot to put the chopped onions out! Where’s Lola? I forgot to put the avocados in the guacamole! I forgot drinks for the kids! Yes we have silverware it’s white and plastic and I will stab you with it if I find it! Dammit I forgot to put the pasta salad out! Where’s Lola? No honey! Don’t eat that ball of cat hair! Where’s Noah? Noah please put the steak knife down! Where’s my vodka? You know, the drink I made at lunch at the Taylor’s earlier and still haven’t finished?
What are my friends talking about? Where’s Lola? Wheres the butter? Noah don’t wipe your ketchup face on the white sof…UGH!!!! Maybe he’ll wipe his vanilla ice cream face on the same spot and cancel it out? So what were we talking about? The Voice? Whose voice? Ask me about Chuggington! I know all about Chuggington!
Where’s Mat? Godammit!! Help me out with just ONE of our three kids! Now I’m the cursing-out-her-husband-in-front-of-people wife that I was just agreeing 10 minutes ago how embarrassing it would be to be. Awkward! Except I don’t care!! My friends probably have assumed that I birthed my personality out with my placenta, seeing as how I haven’t actually spoken to them all night. Where the hell is Lola???
Beer? Cold. Grill? Hot. I’m good.