5pm Christmas day, I stood, wild-haired, in front of the washer feeding copious amounts of bedding into its yawning mouth, wondering, "WHEN is my dad going to call?"
I'd asked him to call me when he crossed over the Delaware Memorial Bridge. Only I didn't say it like that. I said, "Call me when you get over the bridge so I have enough time to start dinner."
At dinnertime, the lightbulb went off. Oh no. Maybe he's *not* heading down I95? Maybe he thinks I meant the Chesapeake Bay Bridge? Which means the two-hour lead time I'd requested would effectively be whittled down a third.
I texted him. "Are you taking 95? Or eastern shore?"
He immediately called. "Yeah, we're going down the eastern shore. We're almost at the Bay Bridge!"
I choked. Guests would be arriving in a little over half an hour and here I was unshowered, the house wasn't done and parts of dinner were still frozen.
I thundered up the steps. "He's almost at the Bay Bridge!" I yelled and hurled myself into the shower while husband began frantically throwing potatoes in the oven.
Inevitably they arrived too early. So we just cooked while they were here.
I'm a crappy hostess. I cannot effectively hold a conversation while stirring a pot. But they love me anyway, even when I am crazed. Now I am recovering from the frenzy! (Note to self: next time I'm expecting to host Christmas dinner and sleepover guests, maybe don't take on enormous task of painting room. Just make the damn bed!)
Here are some before & after pix, since some of you asked. A good "before" one of the wreck that I called a bedroom:
More:
before & after
office before / after
Another view of the office, after. Ok, so we don't have the fanciest furniture. But it works!
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