When I'm planning an event, I transform from a mild-mannered Mandy into a Whirling Dervish. I run around finishing and tidying and trying to gain enough time to throw on a little make up and greet our guests with a smile of outward calm.
It's all part of the Martha Facade.
Whether it's Easter Dinner for the family, a birthday party for one of my children, a baby shower for a friend or an extravagant cocktail party*, the day of the Event is timed out on a color coded spreadsheet with checklists for my checklists.
Please note: The cocktail parties went the way of the dinosaur after having children. Mostly because I'm too tired to stay up past ten and there are too many toys in the tub to fill it with floating candles and cranberries.
After we had children, I had to let a few things go. I no longer schedule a professional cleaning person the day before. I shove the clutter into a room and lock the door and hope no one notices the large cobwebs in the corners. I don't make eight course meals or an entire cheese and fruit platter. Rather, there are juice boxes and store bought cupcakes.
On my to do list for Joseph's birthday party, I scheduled Chad to go to the store and pick up cupcakes.
Side note: Do you remember the Mincemeat Pie Episode? Wouldn't you think I'd learn?
Chad came home with two dozen Easter Cupcakes, complete with chick rings.
And pastel sprinkles.
"What happened? I asked for plain white frosting."
"These were on sale."
"Why?"
"They were on the day old shelf."
"The day old shelf?"
"Yeah. I asked for plain cupcakes, but I guess the decorator isn't in today so I just bought these."
"The day old shelf?"
"I figured you could pick the sprinkles off if you didn't like them."
"Pick the sprinkles off?! You're going to have to go to another store. And quick."
"These are fine."
"No," I said decisively, "they most certainly are not."
"You know, they don't have to be perfect."
He might as well have thrown a red cape in my face. I handed him the keys, pointed to the door and watched him stomp out.
Then I immediately called my mom. Within minutes, Maxine had me laughing hysterically over the whole situation. As she said...
Men.
12 comments:
Pick the sprinkles off? Who are you, Sisyphus?
You neglected to mention when we were chatting about this, that they came of the DAY OLD SHELF.
Dead. Freaking. Brilliant.
Men, indeed....
Heh. Sadly, I'd pull a Chad. My husband would spare no expense (and hasn't, dammit) for our daughter.
I hope you made him eat the old ones!
Whoa. Yeah. My husband wouldn't take that kind of risk with me. LOL
LOL...MEN!!!
the day old shelf???? Oh wow, He's lucky he's still breathing ;)
I mean I love cupcakes any old day, but c'mon.....LOL
Oh those won't do! What was he thinking?! At least he went out and grabbed more!
watched him stomp out. That would so happen in my home.
yeah, when you have been married as long as i have you learn real quick the ins and outs of sending your husband to the store for anything...especially something so serious. Next time have him scrub the toilets or get those cobwebs down. When I shared this story with your dad, he said yeah his idea of helping was the socializing part, not preparing anything...hence why i don't remember half of our get togethers...lol MEN!!
haha! Love it! I would have gone with them if they hadn't been on the day old shelf!! I can't believe you actually employed a professional cleaner before parties or that you put cranberries and floating candles in your bathtub! Seriously?? Wow!
Some things men just don't understand.
I could see my husband doing the same thing. Only he would call me from the store and indignantly complain that they don't have the cupcakes that I so unashamedly demanded and then complain that he has to go to another store because I simply cannot be pleased. LOL
My husband took the beautiful cake I got for my daughter at the bakery counter and then put it on the bottom of the cart, turned the cart and let it fall, frosting sticking to top of the box--all in a course of 30 seconds.My daughter didn't cry, so I told myself I would not, either. It was terrible.
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