So, this past weekend was Father’s Day. LG and I ran out on Saturday and picked up a few little things for Smoochy. He can be hard to shop for, so he usually receives a few knickknacks and a gift card so he can get whatever elusive thing he has his eyes on.
My plan for Sunday was to get up and cook, probably skip church and just laze around the house chillaxing with my family. So Sunday, that’s what I did. Got up and put the roast in the crock pot, put the purple hull peas on to simmer, and prepped everything for skillet corn. At about 6:30 I realized I didn’t have any carrots for the roast so I went to the store to pick some up. I also bought some pound cake for dessert.
Come home, wait for the family to wake up, gift Smoochy, proceed to chillax. At about 11:30, Smoochy tells me his dad will be over in about 20 minutes – can I run to the store and get him a Father’s Day card while Smoochy hops in the shower? Grrrrr! Dude, I’ve already been to the store, why didn’t you have me pick up a card while I was out. But, okay. I’ll go. Put my shoes on and as I’m leaving the house, my FIL pulls up. I wave and keep it moving.
I get back to the house with the card and Smoochy tells me he’s invited his sister and her family over for dinner. Terrific. Well, it would’ve been if I had enough food for all those folks! We’re now talking his dad, his sister, her husband and our two nieces – one of whom eats like a man. He tells me not to worry, his sister is going to bring rotisserie chickens. So where do I go as soon as I walk in the house? Right back to the dadgum store. To buy soda. Why? Because they don’t drink water and they really don’t drink tap water – which is what we mainly drink. By this point, I’m .38 hot. I go buy two liters of soda and am appalled to learn they’re 2.09 a bottle – I thought soda was cheap???
So, I get home, start prepping the salad and the doorbell rings. The youngest niece strolls right in. I say “hello K.” She says nothing. Now this is the same kid who just two weeks ago told me to “go on” because I was getting on her nerves…so I speak again. She says nothing. I say “if you can’t speak, get out. Don’t walk in this house without speaking.” She mumbles “hey
heifer T Nerd Girl” and slides on up the stairs. My SIL assures me (again) that K is just kidding. Yeah, okay. I’m going to be just kidding when I knock that kid the hell heck hell out.
We eat. My BIL calls me fancy for using real dishes and silverware. Sigh. Then he asks for salt. I give him what we use – sea salt. He proceeds to clown me about this. Sigh. Then my niece proclaims the chicken nasty. Sigh. She also tells me she doesn’t like “green stuff.” You mean salad little girl? Sigh.
Finally everyone is fed – the kiddos go upstairs to play and we all sit around watching TV, talking, chilling. Nice. Very nice.
Sunday helped me conclude – again – that I don’t like to entertain folks. Mostly because I don’t like all of the whining and complaining that seems to accompany hosting. I love my family. I really do. Though I realize that may not be evident in this post. I just
think know I prefer going to their house. They’ve cooked what they want, served it on the styrofoam plates they prefer, and they’ve already got their pantry stocked with whatever drink they like. I am perfectly happy to show up with pasta salad in one hand, a green salad in the other and just chill.
Do you entertain? What are your secrets? Or are you like me and prefer to show up at someone’s home, contribution in hand?
* I am thankful that at the end of the day, everyone had a good time, bellies were full, and we got to spend time together. I just don’t want to host. Ever. *