Guess who decided to throw an impromptu party?

It was a typical Tuesday and I was feeling a little stuffy and stuck in a weekday slump. I must have temporarily lost my mind because I decided to have a bonfire party at our house … this Friday. Seemed easy enough, I will buy some beer and chips and invite some people out.

Nothing is ever that simple. Not in my world. I have no idea what kind of fog I was walking around in and now that I’m awake and it’s Friday a.k.a. “we are partying at your house tonight, right?” I am just a bit concerned.

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I needed this … yesterday.

I pre-party shopped last night, the night before my event. That was a first. I am always on top of these things. I am always a great hostess. I always think these things through with lists and check marks and real thought. Not this time.

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Everytime.

Although I hated it I handled that Wal-Mart cart, at 9 pm on a work night, like a boss. Narrowly avoiding free running children, detouring isle blockage, and dodging wild eyed class moms with cart loads of birthday cupcakes. I should get an award for making it out alive.

This is not my thing.

If I must shop the Wally I do it at 2 am on a Saturday with like 5 other people who are not interested in chit chat. Get your crap and get out kinda people. My people. I am not the week night last minute I’ve put it off so long I have to do it now with everyone else who is a procrastinator.

Except this week.

I think I covered all the essentials; I got the beer in 3 brands, an assortment of 2 liters, wine, chips, veggies, hummus, dips, a cheese and cracker assortment and stuff for the kids to make s’mores.

What I didn’t consider was a sheet to cover every pile of embarrassing clutter in my entire house. I am still wondering how much time it would take to buy enough covering to make my house look like one of those old abandoned houses in movies.

Or If I have enough time to hire someone to27fdae9b766b5bc20bdabc8b75571559 come clean up the house before anyone arrives tonight.

Or if I should cancel altogether. I could just drink the wine and eat my cheese plate alone.

I might even have enough beer to last us a few weeks. It might be totally fine.

We will probably spend all our time laughing and enjoying company around the bonfire.

My guests will probably not be attacked by dust bunnies.

What I didn’t consider was a sheet to cover every pile of embarrassing clutter in my entire house. I am still wondering how much time it would take to buy enough covering to make my house look like one of those old houses in movies. Or If I have enough time to hire someone to come clean up the house before anyone arrives tonight. Or if I should cancel altogether and drink and eat my cheese plate alone.

I will probably not be harshly judged on my lack of Martha Stewart level living. Probably.
fbb21528abf93b53f3a22f45589c0417 At any rate we have plenty of beer, if anyone starts looking scared I will just offer them another and a cracker from the cheese plate. I’ve got this. If I pull this off it will be a miracle.

A hostess with the mostest miracle.

Spring cleaning the closets

It’s that time of year again. We dig out the prior seasons clothing, sort totes to see what still fits and what’s still fashionable.

Unimagetil about 2 1/2 years ago I did this task twice a year all by myself. I would go from bedroom to bedroom and organize with carefully color coded totes. It took me about a day and that includes the inevitable laundry. That was when I had time for simple pleasures, like bubble baths and pedicures. Times have changed.

Life circumstances the last 2 years or so what they were, the kids would sort of help the last few change outs. This was done with minimal supervision and it seemed like they had a good handle on keeping organized and tidy. I didn’t check on them. It was after all probably fine.

This year I decided they could do it themselves entirely. A preteen boy and a young teen girl, I could trust them with this responsibility. cause I’m tired. and lazy.

Still.
The kids are surely old enough to do this all by themselves, right? Wrong. So wrong.

I came home to begin my weekend on the couch; I was going to watch a movie or a Netflix marathon or something on the DVR. Or maybe all that. I’ve had a long week and I earned this weekend. I had all night free and popcorn ready for poppin.

Then it started.

The endless arm loads of clothing being dumped around me. Then they started with the questions …

Daughter: “What about clothes I don’t want?”
Me: grumbling, pausing the TV but not making eye contact … “Just sort them and I’ll figure it out.”

Son: “What about this?” holding a shirt some random kid probably left here months ago.
Me: “Really? Put it in the pile. I’ll sort it out.”

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I’m gonna take my chances anyway.

This went on for what seemed like forever. Then they disappeared leaving me with more clothes than a Goodwill grand opening.

Then I noticed the smell. Not the buttery goodness of a fresh Orville Redenbacher. No. More like one of the dogs passed gas while barfing up a dead thing they unburied and then ate. Not that my dogs would do such things. Hopefully.
I don’t know where the stench was coming from but it was gross.

I sighed heavily without breathing in too much of the toxic air and set to sorting. No way could I continue ignoring the mess. I carefully inspected the clothing and made my selections. One pile for eBay, one for donating and one for the trash.

I found one of my cardigans, a single shoe, a dried up leaf and 2 mini bounce balls. I also found some tiny sizes they clearly missed in the prior seasons closet clean outs. I don’t care how good of a job they claim they did, I know nobody in this house has worn Iron Man under-roos since kindergarten. Lucky for me one pair of jeans had 42 cents in the pocket. Even luckier? Nothing dead.

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I think maybe I will go back to cleaning their closets myself. Even if it means I never, ever get time to just watch TV without multi-tasking again.