Expired Registration and Dinner Parties for Parents
Less than an hour for those of us over in Mountain Time waiting for Downton Abbey to come on. Holy Moses, I can't wait! Until then, let's chat, shall we? So how's your weekend been? Well, Friday the Bruce's had spaghetti for dinner, put the kids to bed early, and then Jeff and I watched The Immortals. (Boy, how that young man has grown since his Count of Monte Cristo days. Just sayin'.)Saturday we ran errands all afternoon and then went to some friends' house for dinner. Here's where we segue into talking about dinner parties for parents. They are SO different from dinner parties for people sans kids. Maybe I should call them family-style dinner parties. Hmm. Anyway, there were three couples and five kids among us. We really enjoy hanging out with these couples and the food was fantastic. So it was a great night and we had a lot of fun.
. . . But my kids just seemed to be all wound up. Really. I'm sitting at the dining room table with the adults, trying to keep a watchful, constant eye on my kids at the kitchen table, knowing it's only a matter of time. Yep. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small blue plastic bowl soaring through the air. With pieces of lasagna splattering on the floor. . . Lincoln. Lovely.
Once the kids have been freed from the table to play, it's not long before Ashtyn comes into the living room. Well . . . she looks rather different from the girl who left the living room. She's wearing a teeny tiny cowgirl dress and a cowgirl hat that she becomes absolutely glued to for the rest of the night. Excellent.
Lincoln is the smallest kiddo around and yet you would think he's the toughest kid ever. Not afraid to snatch toys from other kids. He's fearless that way. (Yeah, we're going to have to work on that.) My kids are going through a phase where they've forgotten the meaning of the word share. It's a difficult time. I felt like I was chasing or scolding or checking on them constantly. They were just so wound up!
In the car on the way home, I tell Jeff, "I'm just wondering if it would have been more fun for the others if the Bruces were not there. Quieter for sure."
Jeff's answer: "Maybe we should get a sitter for our kids next time."
You know those moments where you are simultaneously threatening your kids and offering them anything in order to get them to behave? I really know those moments. I live those moments. Sigh. The consolation is that at those dinner parties, you're surrounded by other parents who've usually experienced those same moments. The understanding helps.
So on to Sunday. Well, church was great this morning. Then I had a sister date with Sara to go out for tea. We sat at the tearoom until they were cleaning up and we had to leave. We really like to go have tea at this little place in Denver, but it's kind of in a weird location. Like it shares a building with one of those New-Age bookstores that has creepy stuff. Now I'm not judging if you like those places, but I'm not one for psychics myself, if you get my drift. The tearoom is not part of the bookstore, but they share the place, I guess. Anyway, today was some sort of special day because lots of people kept coming in and going to the back. And after a while Sara and I started hearing this low music that was sort of like steady drums. I felt like I was in Lord of the Rings or something with drums starting in the deep.
Anyway, we really enjoyed our tea and scones (this place makes delicious scones. And their soup and sandwiches are so good). Then we leave and almost immediately we're pulled over by a police car. Sara's driving and she pulls to the side, frantically trying to put her seatbelt on as she says, "Oh gosh! We're not even wearing our seatbelts!" I pat my seatbelt, "I am," I sing. :) The officer comes to the window and asks Sara if she knows her registration is out. I am shuffling through the glove box, looking for who knows what. Neither she nor I seem to know what to look for. There's a stack of insurance cards in there. (It looks very much like my glove box, where there's a stack of similar looking cards.) I hand the most recent one to Sara and she shows it to the officer. "Yes, I see you have insurance," he says, again asking about the registration. She shows him the card again. "Yes, you do have insurance," he tells her. Ding ding ding. We are realizing that the insurance card is not the same thing as registration. Ah. He walks back to his own car. (I think he realized he'd get further if he just checked himself.) Meanwhile, Sara calls Nemo who tells her the registration is out.
Oh dear. The nice officer comes back and has reached the same conclusion. Sara is telling him profusely that her husband is really sorry about the registration and he promises that they'll take care of that ASAP. (Keep in mind said husband is not presently with us in the car.) Nice officer lets us off with a warning.
The whole thing felt like a Seinfeld episode. :)
And now, Downton starts in about fifteen minutes. Yay! I'm telling you, I cried last week when Edith was left at the altar. How awful! Let's hope they've got something better in store for her.
Posted by Brandy Bruce at January 20, 2013