I’m sitting in my basement, alone, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. For those of you that may be concerned about my moral fortitude considering the two vices I am indulging right now, rest assured that I am watching Little House on the Prairie to balance things out.
Sunday is Stephen’s birthday party. He’s turning two, and not only am I surprised that the Birth Center didn’t say oh man we are making a huge mistake sending a baby home with this one, but I have managed to keep him alive, fed and clothed for two whole years! I have the party decorations, favors for the kids, fixings for potato and macaroni salads, and Sunday morning free to buy the balloons, pick up the cake, and finish up decorating. Wouldn’t you just know that it’s supposed to be in the 90’s with close to 100% humidity? There goes the sidewalk chalk and the blowing bubbles. Too hot! If you have never been to Delaware in the summer you should know that it is miserable. I know professors that teach at the university that say they can tell when they’re in Delaware because their noses lock up tight. It’s amazing, really. You would think that weather would hold no regard for state lines, but here in Delaware we suffer. There is just something about this state that is unlike any other state in the Union. Strange.
I think I have everything together, but I can’t be sure. There’s bound to be some disaster, some missed deadline, some person showing up that we didn’t count on. I’m just trying to take these last few minutes and soak up the peace. Also, rest assured that there will be a nice bottle of wine chilling in the fridge for the moment the last child goes home, and mine is asleep in bed.