Moral: Clean Your Bathtub

Hey y'all -

I got a voicemail message from your dad's aunt last Wednesday:

Barb: "Hey, it's Barb. I'm married to Steve. Joe's brother. We're going to be coming through your neck of the woods on Thursday, and we're wondering if you're up for a visit."
Me: "Thursday like tomorrow(?!?) or Thursday like next week?"
Barb: "Thursday as in tomorrow."

Being from the South, I adhere to not only the traditional Ten Commandments that were handed down to Moses, but also an additional handful of Commandment-like guidelines handed down by the Methodist Women's Auxiliary. These include "Thou Shalt Not Tell Your Family They Can't Come Visit." Also: "Thou Shalt Own A Deviled Egg Plate And Some Shrimp Forks." And "Thou Canst Have Fake Hair Color And Fake Boobs, But Thine Accent And Silverware Must Be Real."

Anyway, even though your dad was out of town at a Hydrology conference and the house was a disaster, I said, "Of course you can come! We'd always love to see you!"

Then I started cleaning the house like my ass was on fire.

As their arrival drew nearer, I started cutting corners. Hell, I started cutting whole rooms. I thought, "No one will ever look behind the shower curtain, so all these kid toys can stay there." Or "In no conceivable circumstance will people ever look in my closet." Right now, my grandmother in Alabama is shaking her head, because her personal Commandments include, "Thou shalt maintain a closet more organized than the average upscale retail outlet." This is one of the lesser reasons why I selfishly rue the day my grandmother ascends to Heaven: because then, she'll be able to look down and see what's shoved in my garage.

So 24 hours pass, and Steve and Barb and their lovely daughter Sarah arrive. Steve says to his wife: "I hope you apologized to Brooke for the short notice we gave her." Barb replied, "No, I didn't apologize. She's married to a Burbach. She knows."

Steve is a ton of fun, and immediately he and Sarah started playing a marathon session of hide n' seek with you two:

11, 12, 14, 14...

You found me!

Hagen's turn to hide.

And you'll never guess where everybody hid: In my closet, in the bathtub, in the garage, under the bed, etc. I hope they weren't too appalled.

Hagen't not buying this story

Laney's very much into Snow White these days. Cousin Sarah was patient enough to sit down on the couch with you and read you the entire long version of the story - the one with teeny tiny print and whole pages that I normally skip. I'm sure you were shocked to learn that there are dwarves. And a cohesive plot.

Hagen's vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds these days. Shoes! Truck! His sister Yaynee! But one of his all-time favorite words is "Apple." Imagine his shock and delight when it seemed like it might be a story about an apple. Look! There's an APPLE!!! on every page. 

It made me think there's probably a million-dollar children's book idea in Snow White as written from the point of view of the apple. Based on Hagen's reaction, it could be a real nail-biter.

But somebody else'll need to write it. I'm busy cleaning out my tub and polishing my shrimp forks. Just in case anybody else drops by. 

Love,

Mom