Today I had one of those horrific experiences I wish I could forget ever happened.
We’d had a mostly-good weekend; our supposed camping trip (loaded up the van, took off, went to every campground in the nearby mountains but all were full. Wasted three hours and a quarter tank of gas) was rotten but we had a nice day Sunday with family. Monday morning I went to another family thing and before I went, I unloaded all the camping stuff from the van…all over the kitchen, living room, and family room. “I’ll put it away later,” I said. We were late.
When we got back late that afternoon we were all tired and sunburned. Nia decided it was so fun to do a “family church” like we did on Sunday that she set up more chairs in the living room, filled them with stuffed animals, and covered the chairs, couch, and floor with papers of her scripture illustrations, little made-up talks, and church programs. I had also washed a very large, very heavy quilt and it didn’t get all the way dry in the dryer so I draped it all over the chairs to dry.
Last night I was all ready for bed by 9 by some miracle and went to check on the sleeping children, as usual, one last time before bed. Bran was awake, and really scared about bad dreams and things, so I ended up letting him sleep in the family room and I slept on the couch, near him. Even so, I couldn’t get him to sleep till nearly 12:30. I didn’t sleep well.
I had planned to get up very early this morning to exercise, make a nice healthy breakfast, clean up, and be ready to head to our first ballet/clogging classes of the 2009-2010 season. The girls had to be there at 9. Instead, because of the late-night incidents, I woke up with a start at 8:20 and freaked out at how late it was. We ran around getting ready and raced out the door, munching a bagel on the drive over, and made it to the studio only a couple of minutes late.
John called at 11:30 and said he was going out to lunch with a relative and a friend to discuss business plans, and he dropped Bran off to go home with us.
By the time we were home and done with lunch at 1 today I was so very tired. I looked at the mess in the living room…chairs, big quilt, papers everywhere…the kitchen…plates on the table, grocery bags on the floor…and the family room…baskets of clean laundry and all Bran’s sleeping stuff. I decided I would just lie down for a short nap before cleaning it all up.
The next thing I knew, the front door was opening. In walked John and the two distinguished, important guys he was meeting with. They could barely walk IN THE DOOR. I wished the floor would open up and swallow me.
They went outside to continue their meeting because the back yard was cleaner than the house. I dare any of you reading this to come up with a more humiliating experience.
Once I stopped crying I immediately cleaned everything up and was the tiniest bit comforted thinking that NOW the house was clean, and once they walked back through they’d see it. I ran to the store to get some nice things for dinner, thinking also that if I could provide some delicious food, it would also help.
When I got back, to my shock, they were gone. John said he’d invited them to stay for dinner but they weren’t hungry and wanted to get home. And what’s worse…they left through the gate and side yard. They didn’t even see the now-clean house.
It’s going to take me a while to get over that one, let me tell you. Maybe in a few years I will be able to laugh about it without crying.
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