So I had a committee meeting tonight at 6:30.
I remembered this meeting at precisely 7:35, even though it was written in green marker on my calendar AND I had left a Post-It note to myself on the kitchen counter that simply said, “MEETING. 6:30.”
And that’s pretty much how my day has gone.
We played pickle ball in 4th grade PE today. If you’re unfamiliar with the game, it’s Tennis meets Ping Pong meets Badminton meets Volleyball. You play it with paddles that are smaller than a tennis racquet, but much larger than ping pong paddles.
Also? Arming 4th graders with paddles is never a good idea in any universe.
We had two games going on, side-by-side, and those four pickle ball teams became warring nations who possessed absolutely no ability to sit down together for peace talks. They fought over SHE HAS A PURPLE PADDLE, AND I WANTED A PURPLE PADDLE, BUT SHE TOOK THE LAST PURPLE ONE, AND NOW I JUST HAVE THIS UGLY RED PADDLE, AND I DIDN’T WANT RED. They fought over hits that were in-bounds and out-of-bounds like two neighboring countries fighting over borders and boundaries and water rights. They argued over serves, verbally faced-off in regards to points and demanded that the American Pickle Ball Association be brought in to measure the net height.
Without even wanting to, I became the United Nations.
And that, people, made me suck down a Starbucks VENTI no-water chai in record time, as I suddenly wished that the green mermaid actually adorned a cup that was BIGGER.
(Something similar in size to THIS IS THE JUG WE MAKE SUN TEA IN EVERY SUMMER.)
(Or even THIS IS THE DENVER BRONCOS’ WATER COOLER FOR HOME GAMES.)
(If my chai latte didn’t require two hands to hold it today, it was entirely too small.)
And then I came home and slaved over making a lasagna, because my people insist upon being fed something other than sunflower seeds for dinner. While it was in the oven, Hubs called me to say, “Alert! Alert! I’ve got a downed 294 with a K-180 power deficit that needs to be hit with the paddles so I can get a signal and get the system back on the 880.”
(Honestly? I don’t know if that’s exactly what Hubs said tonight, but every time he talks about computer systems, all I ever hear is Charlie Brown’s teacher talking.)
(I’m pretty sure Hubs feels exactly the same way when I start to elaborate on gray rugs for the living room and throw pillows with navy, Chevron stripes.)
(We complete one another.)
I told Hubs, “Well, that figures, because I made a lasagna tonight.”
Hubs asked, “Did you use your usual recipe?”
Yes. Yes, I did. It’s the recipe card that reads, “Preheat oven to 375. Make a half-inch slit in the film. Place lasagna tray on a sturdy cookie sheet and bake for 80 minutes. Remove film and continue baking 10 more minutes.”
People, that lasagna recipe has been in our family for years.
And since my math skills seem to be at an all-time low (as evidenced by the fact that the boy just asked me tonight, “Mom? What’s the equation for finding the area of a triangle?” and I had to tell him, “Honey, Mama’s real busy with this lasagna right now, so you’ll just have to use the Google.”), I managed to miscalculate the time.
When the boy needed to leave for youth group tonight, I still had twenty minutes left on the lasagna, which is why he ended up eating my homemade chicken nuggets.
(The recipe for those is very easy. “Place 9 nuggets on a microwave-safe plate. Microwave on high for 3 minutes.”)
(You’re welcome for all these free dinner recipes.)
And that, people, is why I ate lasagna alone tonight, while I forgot my committee meeting.
Well… look who managed to get home from the state science fair!
Yes! It’s true! We have a third-place state champion in the microbiology category! His mama and daddy were real proud! The boy’s science teacher assured us that the boy did an outstanding job on his interviews and presentation at the state level, and that it was an honor to even place, let alone get third, because there were twenty entries in microbiology. Plus? It was a very grown-up 8th grader who took first place this year. The boy suspects that he shaves already and is doing some advanced biology courses through Harvard, online.
Thing 2 welcomed the boy home with 42 kisses and hysterical squeals of happiness.
The boy had a fantastic time on his trip, because he and Patrick and Kellen roomed together in a motel room, ALONE. As in, the group ran out of chaperones, so those three boys were entrusted to a room alone and told, “No girls… no Mountain Dew… and no raucous music after 9:30.” It was exactly like they were college students, because the boy reported that they threw all their clothes onto the motel room’s floor for three days, and they watched TV late into the night.
So yes. We’re powerfully proud of that big boy of ours.
Today… 3rd place at the state science fair as a 6th grader. Tomorrow… Proving cold fusion.
And I’m thinking that the latter might pay more than $20.
Y’all have a happy Wednesday evening, and do check your calendars closely, in case you have committee meetings that you really shouldn’t miss.