We all know that Andy is a busy bee with all of his committee meetings and other very important things to do. I, too, am very involved and oh so busy. As a matter of fact, I am the chair of two committees: My Personal Social Events Committee and the Caroline Social Events Committee. Being the chair of both of these committees is downright exhausting and a big responsibility. To save time I often try to combine efforts and plan activities that the members of both committees will be happy attending.
As you might have guessed, Andy isn't really a supporter of my committee involvement as it is not nearly as noble as say the fire department or Chamber of Commerce. In his mind, working a pancake breakfast is much more important than planning and implementing a Sunday outing for Caroline and company. He often wonders why I am so exhausted after these social events and references them as my "Candy Land vacation." While his resume demonstrates a variety of sound skills, the poor guy, he just has no idea how hard event planning can truly be.
As is often the case with social event planning, the idea always sounds so much better in theory than the event is in reality. Take today, for example, our committees joined forces with another mommy/baby social committee to offer a double feature: playground followed by lunch at a lovely, open-air restaurant by the water. We had the weather going for us at least. Mud puddles and attempted rock eating tainted our park visit but at least we got out of there without anyone peeing down their leg or needing a clothing change due to puddle swimming. I'm sure the other folks enjoying their relaxing Sunday lunch by the lake were less than thrilled with the raucous created by the Mommy/Baby group. Yes, the sun made the water glisten like crystals. Yes, the waves gently lapped the shore below our table. Yes, the air hinted at fall. And yes, that CLANK. CLANK. CLANK sound was my daughter picking up my plate and slamming it back on the table. And yes, that hunched over animal was me shoveling chicken fingers into my mouth as fast as humanely possible. And yes, yes, that yellow, slimey thing that flew through the air was pasta that was just licked.
We didn't even get the chance to say good bye to the other committee as they were busy picking up pasta from under the floor and I was hurredly carrying Caroline football-style to the van. I did see them pass us, like ships in the night, as Caroline and I finished the outing with a round of "Chase Me Around the Cars in the Busy Parking Lot" and "Get in the Car Seat or I'm Gonna Kill You, Kid". Yep, Andy. It's all fun and games here during our Candy Land vacation.
Whenever he is fed up with his volunteerism, Andy threatens to quit. "Yeah, I'm gonna tell them next week that I'm done! DONE!" But then, like the masochist he is, he keeps going back for more altruistic pain. I can't blame him because I am the same way. I promise to myself that I'm quitting the committees and I'm going to hole up here at home and never go out again. Then the next day/weekend rolls around and there I am, out of the goodness of my heart: making calls, checking the forecast and various hours of operation in preparation for the next big event.
As you might have guessed, Andy isn't really a supporter of my committee involvement as it is not nearly as noble as say the fire department or Chamber of Commerce. In his mind, working a pancake breakfast is much more important than planning and implementing a Sunday outing for Caroline and company. He often wonders why I am so exhausted after these social events and references them as my "Candy Land vacation." While his resume demonstrates a variety of sound skills, the poor guy, he just has no idea how hard event planning can truly be.
As is often the case with social event planning, the idea always sounds so much better in theory than the event is in reality. Take today, for example, our committees joined forces with another mommy/baby social committee to offer a double feature: playground followed by lunch at a lovely, open-air restaurant by the water. We had the weather going for us at least. Mud puddles and attempted rock eating tainted our park visit but at least we got out of there without anyone peeing down their leg or needing a clothing change due to puddle swimming. I'm sure the other folks enjoying their relaxing Sunday lunch by the lake were less than thrilled with the raucous created by the Mommy/Baby group. Yes, the sun made the water glisten like crystals. Yes, the waves gently lapped the shore below our table. Yes, the air hinted at fall. And yes, that CLANK. CLANK. CLANK sound was my daughter picking up my plate and slamming it back on the table. And yes, that hunched over animal was me shoveling chicken fingers into my mouth as fast as humanely possible. And yes, yes, that yellow, slimey thing that flew through the air was pasta that was just licked.
We didn't even get the chance to say good bye to the other committee as they were busy picking up pasta from under the floor and I was hurredly carrying Caroline football-style to the van. I did see them pass us, like ships in the night, as Caroline and I finished the outing with a round of "Chase Me Around the Cars in the Busy Parking Lot" and "Get in the Car Seat or I'm Gonna Kill You, Kid". Yep, Andy. It's all fun and games here during our Candy Land vacation.
Whenever he is fed up with his volunteerism, Andy threatens to quit. "Yeah, I'm gonna tell them next week that I'm done! DONE!" But then, like the masochist he is, he keeps going back for more altruistic pain. I can't blame him because I am the same way. I promise to myself that I'm quitting the committees and I'm going to hole up here at home and never go out again. Then the next day/weekend rolls around and there I am, out of the goodness of my heart: making calls, checking the forecast and various hours of operation in preparation for the next big event.
Comments