A Musing Mother 6

I'm at my class reunion being held at the high school. Someone forgot to inform the school facilities manager and there is no air conditioning. I'm holding a plastic cup with lemonade and ice when I see an old friend and his sons in the hall. The older son is a former student of mine. I bypass my friend and greet his son and give him a hug. To my utter horror then surprise, I forget I am holding a drink. I wrap my arms around the boy's neck and dump the lemonade over his shoulder  back towards me. Horror that I dumped it on the young man. Surprise when most of it neatly poured itself into my bra. From one cup to another. Mortification when I realized my mistake and wondered what THAT would look like. I called over my shoulder to the boy's father, "Wade! Go get some napkins!" Meanwhile, Tommy was trying to undo himself from my clinging hug. Awkward.

My name is Julie and I will be your cruise director this summer. First up, I allow you choose the activity you want. Hundreds of dollars later, I realize this is a mistake and try a free activity like Geocaching. After realizing that some people hide their "cache" in old fashioned film canisters, hanging in pine trees that are impossible to climb into, we resort to different activities that cost a little but not hundreds of dollars. The right mix of activities includes bringing cousins along because the weight of constant engagement and sometimes forced, "Isn't this fun?!" lifts significantly. Which is how we found ourselves in the Museum of Natural Curiosities. Special thanks to Alyssa Taylor who works at Thanksgiving Point, giving her family free access to most of the attractions. I discovered that this one is a runner. More than once (exactly twice) I panicked and started calling out to my 3 year old nephew. After a minute or two, he sauntered back over to m

The man teaches Sunday School, makes presentations to multitudes of people for work, was recently recognized for his hard work and given a major award (cue Christmas Story music) but he absolutely loathes to be the center of attention. Therefore, I took it upon myself to spread the word as I walked in late to church on Sunday and whispered in passing to every member of the congregation, "It's Scott's birthday today. Pass it on." One dear, stupid man actually asked me what I was going to give him for his birthday.  I was already talking to my friend, Kaye, and bit my tongue answering only vaguely, "Oh, you know. Golf balls." Then I followed Kaye home before I spontaneously imploded to make my smarty pants remark. Thanks, Kaye. And you're right, of course. The shimmy makes the answer that much sweeter.  This is what happens when you realize you don't have any birthday candles. Let us take a moment and celebrate (not mock) that Garage Sales do not only