Entertaining Thoughts

Mr. GG is having a big meeting in town next week. He has invited 40 people to our house for dinner. Don’t gasp. I told him it was okay to do it. I may have been out of my mind when he brought it up, but I always like meeting the people he talks about. And I like to cook. The food thing is no problem. Costco cold cuts, sandwich fixings, some salads, vegetables and deserts and appetizers I can make ahead of time, and plenty of beer. Some kind of hearty thing for the vegetarians in the group. I am also importing potato chips from Illinois (the best chips in the world are “Kitchen Cooked”, a mellow blend of grease, salt and perfect crunch – and the company delivers).

The scary part is cleaning the house. We live a lifestyle that might best be described as “casual”. Anyone who knows me will be snickering and snorting at that “casual” – because what I really mean is that I suck at housekeeping. It is at times like these, that I finally notice stuff like baseboards and ceiling beams, and wonder if we could get a federal subsidy for managing a spider preserve. And how come I never noticed all that white crap on the windows? Does acid rain produce those smears? Or have the cats been sneezing on the glass? I wonder if it is too late to remodel the guest bath, have all the drapes cleaned, and get new furniture.

Well, yes it is. I have 5 days till D-day. It is pretty much too late for anybody except FEMA to complete my “To Do” list. And I am such a brat, that even making a “To Do” list irks me, because I hate to feel obligated, and things fall off that list quickly. Wash the windows? It’ll be dark. Who’s gonna be looking at the windows? Okay, that chore dropped to the bottom of the list. Eventually things get pared down to: have enough food, and clean the bathroom.

Mr. GG and I did have a little chat about being green. We try. We really do. And god knows, I have enough dishes to serve 40 people, but I calmly pointed out that I did not care to spend the next day washing plates, glassware, and flatware for 40 people, and that we were going to be using paper plates. I did offer him the opportunity to wash all those dishes, if it was really important to him, and surprise! He found out that gee, he guessed he could live with paper plates. Uh huh, that’s what I thought.

The horrible part is that when Mr. GG gets into an expansive, host-y mode, he will want to show people the house. This is the part that makes my blood run cold. We have a huge house. It is full of stuff. It is full of stuff that is in disarray, scattered, dumped and piled. The basement is gigantic. Mr. GG has a shop down there where he makes jewelry and saws up rocks. The Baby has a couple of apartments worth of stuff in boxes and lying around in piles from last time she came home. I put all my craft stuff, fabric, books I mean to take to the used book store, and papers I haven’t filed for the last decade in the basement. The Christmas decorations are still at the foot of the stairs. In fact, other than dumping the occasional box of miscellany down there, I avoid the basement. Last time we entertained, I closed all the doors to the junk rooms and put crime scene tape across the doors. Seriously.

While I am trying to plan things out for entertaining, Mr. GG snaps to, and realizes that things around here could be managed better. You’d think he would have learned to keep those observations to himself (at least his thoughts about how we need to delegate specific areas to store stuff). I offer to go get him a Dymo label maker, and suggest he could go around finding places to label (some of them anatomically impossible), and he realizes upsetting me at a time like this is not in his best interests.

He backs away from me carefully, and I resume making grocery lists. Why can’t he see that this is the time to pick up all the magazines scattered across the living room, and not the time to remove everything from the junk drawer and reorganize it? If he shows anyone the junk drawer, I will kill him. If he shows anybody the junk rooms, I’ll…. I’ll, wow, that is so terrible to contemplate, that I can’t even think of something awful enough to do to him. Maybe I can just duct tape those doors shut. I know. I’ll put a warning sign on them. What do you think of this?

Warning

Do not enter this room
or your life will be forfeit
Some things are not meant to be seen by human eyes.
Back away from the door!
This means you!

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. Wow. That knocks 2 more big chores off my list. At this rate, I am gonna have time to finish the new Clive Cussler book, bake some cookies, and maybe do a little restorative retail therapy. Go me!

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