That's your job, Mom

I'm having our 3-day team and families over on Saturday (pray that the thunderstorms forecasted don't become a reality) and was discussing the matter, full of enthusiasm, with Emma last weekend. This was of course when it was still in the planning stages and not in the reality stages! (My house is a disaster, and also, let's be quite clear - I am no Martha Stewart of entertaining and home decor. I'd like to be, but it's becoming more and more clear that my gifts do not lie in that direction*. What was I thinking?)

Anyway, I am looking forward to seeing all of these families in one place so I am going to get over my disastrous house and work on having only fun. But last weekend when I was thinking of this I was enthusing and Emma said to me "How can you even think about that party! It's so far away!" and I said, "But that's only next week! There's lots of stuff to do before then - get the house in order, get some food, get this, get that...." and she said, "Well, that's all your job, Mom. My job is to go to school and wait." (And apparently that is a harder job, the waiting.)

*And, now that I think about it, I don't care if I don't have that gift. The only thing I want to be really good at right now is beating breast cancer.

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