I greet the woman I have never met as she drops off her daughter to the birthday party. We have spoken twice of the phone.
On the first occasion I asked whether or not her daughter might be able to join our birthday festivities. Her schedule was awesomely busy, although she appears to have received the invitation which has R.S.V.P. on the bottom. Maybe next year I should add A.S.A.P? She would get back to me, although we knew not when.
I spoke to her a second time 17 hours before the party, when my daughter’s frenzy of the unknowable, was over whelming. I telephoned to enquire whether she had found a free moment to study her busy schedule. After a considerable kerfuffle I was advised that her daughter might, would probably, just might manage to make it, to the relief of everyone.
Now, having deposited her child into our care for two hours she turns to depart, to resume her very busy schedule with a hopeful chance that she may in due course, if time allows, return to collect her daughter. She leans towards me with a conspiratorial air to whisper loudly, “did you know your have dye smeared around your hairline?”
“Er……..no…….” My index finger runs around my face before I lick the end, “that’s good, Thank you for letting me know.”
“!”
“I’m just glad it’s not chocolate frosting.”
33 minutes ago
4 comments:
Parties of any sort cause anxiety! Cracks me up when someone assumes they are busier or more important than you....
Ooooh noooo I absolutly hate moms like this who always make me feel so inadequate with a single sentence. I also hate that they make me feel guilty for my son wanting to play with their 'perfect' child.
Just how busy could she possibly be?!
Evil woman. That was truly malicious and you must WIPE this woman right out of your hair.
The only polite reply would have been... (uh, no, I just won't say it, but wickedly satisfying to think it on your behalf).
Hope her little dear was a perfect guest.
Happy birthday to your kiddo!
tl
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