OK, I've held it in as long as I can: I'm goin' to Hotlanta. I'm leaving Thursday morning at 7:30 with the girls in my lifegroup (cell group that meets on Sunday nights and Wednesday night fun together away from families). My friend who owns her own chocolate gourmet company called Gourmet Divine is going to some kind of exhibitor/reteailer show at Americasmart in Atlanta, and we are going to help her man her booth. But the thrilling part is, we are going to shop wholesale!
Yes, I am seeing rainbows and ponies and fluffy clouds and everything! Wholesale!
My friend tells me that there is one store full of pet supplies (such as chi-chi carriers, which as you know, I would never be caught dead spending money on for my mutt.)
However, because of my old-lady worrier type personality (also known as NNS, or "Nervous Nellie Syndrome") and in spite of all the shopping/talking fun I'm going to have, I am feeling a little weird about leaving home.
For instance, I worry about who is going to check my dog's exploding butt while I'm gone. (BTW, she is still not walking or urinating. This dog has a bladder the size of a miniature marshmallow, but it must be made of steel.)
Who is going to keep laundry going?
What if I die? (Yes, I am truly this much fun.)
So I have selflessly left some notes for my kids here with which they are to carry on should I not return. At least looking less natural than I already do now.
1. Change dish cloths and towels EVERY DAY. They get stinky if you don't and are germ-filled. I cannot rest in my grave if you are using soured dish cloths. For the sake of everything holy about motherhood, change the danged dish cloths EVERY DAY.
2. Be sure to keep your belly buttons clean. Yes, people actually forget to do this, and then they get in accidents or die, and the poor person who has to deal with the remains sees this dirt and says to them, "Didn't your mother tell you to keep this clean?" Do you really want to embarrass yourself (and me) on that table?
3. Shut the cabinet doors. Puh-leeze. When they're open, it looks like the kitchen is ready for lift off.
4. I will always be with you, watching over you, in some capacity. Except on your honeymoon, of course.
5. I have loved you all the same. Has anyone taken Zoe outside or brought her water to her? And don't forget her favorite pillow.
6. Be good to your dad when he's grieving. Everyone grieves differently. If he's suddenly buying a new sports car or booking Vegas vacations or cruises, do not assume he's footloose and fancy free. In his heart, he is wishing I would be there to second guess every decision he makes, just like the good old days.
7. Use my unique family heirloom recipes I'm passing on to you; they are a treasure. Never forget I am the one who whispered into your novice cooking ears, "If you add cherry tomatoes to "Suddenly Salad" mixes, people will go ga-ga over it!"
8. Clean out the silverware drawer. One of life's great mysteries is how it gets crumbs in it in the first place. The only thing I can figure is that whoever's cooking must absent-mindedly leave the drawer slightly open and gnosh on chips while the Hamburger Helper simmers.
9. Know scripture. That way you can never be fooled or have to shamefully rely on someone else to recite it to you. Remember that one verse? "God helps those who help themselves."
10. Do not fill your mind with useless cultural junk hour after hour on TV. Get Tivo and you'll never have to miss American Idol.