On Losing My Mind

I suppose I could blame it on my sister, Diane.  She started it on Friday night.  After her children's weekly piano lessons, she stayed the night at my house.  The following day was a piano recital in which William and her two girls would play.  We were to bring cupcakes for the reception.  She went the store to get last minute ingredients for her chocolate cheesecake creation, only to forget to add in vanilla and chocolate chips.  So, you see, she started it.

It must be a virus, for today, I made banana bread for our guests of this evening, "Doll and Pottie" (I told my daughter).  Daughter laughed, don't you mean Paul and Dottie?  Oh, yes.  And then I realized I'd forgotten to add sugar to the banana bread, making it taste slightly like stale bread instead.  I made another batch, which turned out better.

But last night, recital night, was the worst.   I sent William into the men's room to dress.  While he is in there, it hits me that I'd forgotten his tie!  Horrors!  He already was complaining about his new khakis, pleated and feeling different from other pants he owns.  I hold open the men's room door and avert my eyes, calling William out so that I can run to get my cell.  A quick phone call to the daddy driving separately caused him to stop and buy one, and arrive too late to give it to William now up on stage.  He played well, tie-less.  This is part of a plan to teach him not to trust me, rather to double check that he himself knows that we have all of his attire.

Tomorrow:  On Chickens Falling From the Sky