James has a tradition of taking one child each time he's home out to lunch. This time home it's Rylee's turn. James and Rylee were discussing where she wants to go and Alex asked when it was his turn. Next time Alex. "Good" he said. "I want-a-go Chuck-a-Grandma!" We laughed and laughed. Seriously, I couldn't' make this stuff up!!
Last night was our big annual Relief Society Christmas dinner and I have caught a lovely cold complete with sinus pressure and dry coughing fits. Lovely. I needed to prepare TWO prime ribs. So I walked down the street to my parents to put the second and larger prime (almost 15 pounds) in my Mom's oven in her HUGE roasting pan. My parents have a key less lock on the home and for the life of me I cannot remember the code. My kids know the code. But not me. I rang the door bell. No answer. I called my Mom's cell. No answer. I called my Dad's cell. No answer. (They knew I was coming too!) I am juggling a 15 pound prime on their front porch which has not been shoveled and trying to get them to answer their phones to give me the code so I can get in the door. No luck.
No worries, I'll go through the garage. New keypad and apparently new code. That won't work either.
So I go around back (keep in mind I and the prime I am lugging are making tracks through virgin snow that is above my ankles) open the gate but can't get it to shut behind me. I try-twice-by shutting it hard but this only causes the snow on the gate to spray me. I give up latching the gate. I go through the back door of the garage-because they leave that open for the dog- a big loving white lab who would eat a stranger or lick a friend to death. Luckily no dog in sight. I walk into the garage and see that there is no getting around my Dad's HUGE extended cab truck to get to the door to the house. Luckily the cab is open so I hoist the prime and myself up into the cushy leather seats, put the console up and proceed to scoot across the cab as my phone rings. It's my Dad. Did I need him? It's a little late now Dad! I am sitting in your truck in the garage with a 15 pound prime rib on my lap attempting to get me and it into the house!! He laughs and tells me sorry. Do I want the code's now? Grr...
I manage to get in the house, the prime in the oven, go back out through the front door, trapse back through the snow to shut the gate, go home where I put prime #2 in the oven and then I go directly to bed as my head is just pounding. I can't sleep due to coughing. Great.
Before I left I was going over the schedule for the night with the family. When I told the kids I had a Relief Society dinner, Alex sighed and asked if it was at the table or the bar? Like I was hosting the entire dinner IN our house?? No, Alex at the church.
We have piano and voice lessons on Tuesdays and a recuperating niece who just had her tonsils out staying with us so James was to hold the fort down at home. Austin was coming to help with busing at six. I called about five to six to tell James to bring ice and a sharp knife when he drops Austin off but I'm told it's too late, James has allowed Austin to drive BY HIMSELF to the church. One word-well two, learners permit.
So I went home to get the ice& knife myself and have a few words with the "fun" parent. Alex asked me if I was done when I walked in the door. No I grumbled. You having fun Mom? No, Alex I am not having fun! Then I grabbed the ice & knife and James volunteered to come back with me and get his car as he had seen the error of his ways.
On the way back my rear wheel drive car without snow tires cannot climb the hill to the church. Seriously, this day is getting way to complicated. We take a different route.
I won't bore you with the details of the dinner but sufficient to say, it's OVER!!
(All in all it turned out okay and luckily I didn't have any embarrassing hacking coughing spells while serving! The meat was too done for my taste but no one complained, everyone remembered to bring their dishes, I over scheduled one too many tables decorated, and the entertainment showed up and was marvelous!)
I do need to thank Austin and Hayden for helping so much. This is my third year in charge of this dinner and Austin's third year of playing water boy/table buser. He's a good boy.
After twenty sink loads of dishes and recruiting James to come help clean up-I made it home.
Austin was sharing with James and me how free he felt jumping in the car and driving to the church all on his own. I told him to remember that great feeling as he will not be having it again until April 18th when he turns 16 and is a licensed driver.
When I was doing my nightly pick up and lock up I walked by Alex's room and saw him tossing and turning in his bed. I went to tuck him in.
A: I am sorry for word Mom.
Me: What? What word are you sorry for? (Thinking he must have said a swear word or something while I was gone?)
A: I am sorry for "You having fun?"
Me: Oh, Alex. That's okay. I didn't mean to make you feel bad, it's just not very fun to put these dinners together, especially when I don't feel well. Don't you worry, your words were fine. I was just grumpy.
Good grief. What a day.
Today I feel better-I still have the dry cough but at least the headache's gone-yes the sinus headache and the dinner headache! Hurray!
Last night was our big annual Relief Society Christmas dinner and I have caught a lovely cold complete with sinus pressure and dry coughing fits. Lovely. I needed to prepare TWO prime ribs. So I walked down the street to my parents to put the second and larger prime (almost 15 pounds) in my Mom's oven in her HUGE roasting pan. My parents have a key less lock on the home and for the life of me I cannot remember the code. My kids know the code. But not me. I rang the door bell. No answer. I called my Mom's cell. No answer. I called my Dad's cell. No answer. (They knew I was coming too!) I am juggling a 15 pound prime on their front porch which has not been shoveled and trying to get them to answer their phones to give me the code so I can get in the door. No luck.
No worries, I'll go through the garage. New keypad and apparently new code. That won't work either.
So I go around back (keep in mind I and the prime I am lugging are making tracks through virgin snow that is above my ankles) open the gate but can't get it to shut behind me. I try-twice-by shutting it hard but this only causes the snow on the gate to spray me. I give up latching the gate. I go through the back door of the garage-because they leave that open for the dog- a big loving white lab who would eat a stranger or lick a friend to death. Luckily no dog in sight. I walk into the garage and see that there is no getting around my Dad's HUGE extended cab truck to get to the door to the house. Luckily the cab is open so I hoist the prime and myself up into the cushy leather seats, put the console up and proceed to scoot across the cab as my phone rings. It's my Dad. Did I need him? It's a little late now Dad! I am sitting in your truck in the garage with a 15 pound prime rib on my lap attempting to get me and it into the house!! He laughs and tells me sorry. Do I want the code's now? Grr...
I manage to get in the house, the prime in the oven, go back out through the front door, trapse back through the snow to shut the gate, go home where I put prime #2 in the oven and then I go directly to bed as my head is just pounding. I can't sleep due to coughing. Great.
Before I left I was going over the schedule for the night with the family. When I told the kids I had a Relief Society dinner, Alex sighed and asked if it was at the table or the bar? Like I was hosting the entire dinner IN our house?? No, Alex at the church.
We have piano and voice lessons on Tuesdays and a recuperating niece who just had her tonsils out staying with us so James was to hold the fort down at home. Austin was coming to help with busing at six. I called about five to six to tell James to bring ice and a sharp knife when he drops Austin off but I'm told it's too late, James has allowed Austin to drive BY HIMSELF to the church. One word-well two, learners permit.
So I went home to get the ice& knife myself and have a few words with the "fun" parent. Alex asked me if I was done when I walked in the door. No I grumbled. You having fun Mom? No, Alex I am not having fun! Then I grabbed the ice & knife and James volunteered to come back with me and get his car as he had seen the error of his ways.
On the way back my rear wheel drive car without snow tires cannot climb the hill to the church. Seriously, this day is getting way to complicated. We take a different route.
I won't bore you with the details of the dinner but sufficient to say, it's OVER!!
(All in all it turned out okay and luckily I didn't have any embarrassing hacking coughing spells while serving! The meat was too done for my taste but no one complained, everyone remembered to bring their dishes, I over scheduled one too many tables decorated, and the entertainment showed up and was marvelous!)
I do need to thank Austin and Hayden for helping so much. This is my third year in charge of this dinner and Austin's third year of playing water boy/table buser. He's a good boy.
After twenty sink loads of dishes and recruiting James to come help clean up-I made it home.
Austin was sharing with James and me how free he felt jumping in the car and driving to the church all on his own. I told him to remember that great feeling as he will not be having it again until April 18th when he turns 16 and is a licensed driver.
When I was doing my nightly pick up and lock up I walked by Alex's room and saw him tossing and turning in his bed. I went to tuck him in.
A: I am sorry for word Mom.
Me: What? What word are you sorry for? (Thinking he must have said a swear word or something while I was gone?)
A: I am sorry for "You having fun?"
Me: Oh, Alex. That's okay. I didn't mean to make you feel bad, it's just not very fun to put these dinners together, especially when I don't feel well. Don't you worry, your words were fine. I was just grumpy.
Good grief. What a day.
Today I feel better-I still have the dry cough but at least the headache's gone-yes the sinus headache and the dinner headache! Hurray!
1 of my blog friends said something...:
I am sorry that you are sick and don't feel good, but your prime rib story was funny. I laughed
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