Wednesday, May 05, 2010
It’s a 12yr old’s birthday with 6 girls, I think, what could go wrong?
Well, okay, so nothing went wrong, per se. It was a drama-packed party. The trip to the mall was interesting because 1) I misjudged the number of girls to seats in the van ratio – forcing one child to sit on the floor in the back (do not turn me in…it will make me angry) and 2) I heard things like this, “Shut up EVERYONE! I have something important to say!” (car goes quiet) “Bananas are an excellent source of potassium!”
My friend, Michele, went with me and was a good sport considering she is used to boys and not girls. These particular girls have been in my girl scout troop since kindergarten, so I was prepared for the occasional dramatic “emergency.” In fact, we were shopping in Dillards (and doing quite well, I might add) when we got this text message; (all of the following is text except for Michele’s comments. Apparently, I read each one aloud – go figure)
Meg: We have a problem.
Me: What?
Meg: Well, um, Kelly 1 and 2 are mad at us.
Me: Why?
Meg: Bcuz of bathroom confusion.
Me: Bathroom confusion?
Meg: Meet us outside jcpenney.
Me: (in no hurry to leave really cute sweater set) What happened?
Michele: Shouldn’t we go see what happened?
Me: Oh no. It will change in 2 minutes and I have to buy this cute tote bag.
Meg: Kelly had to go to the bathroom really bad but we made her wait and she just went with Kelly anyway and we didn’t all stay together and we found each other and now we are all mad.
Me: Um, okay. So don’t be mad. It’s a party.
Michele: Are you sure we shouldn’t go?
Me: (looking at the most adorable shoes) Nah. They probably worked it out during the course of that overly long text.
Meg: Well, they ignored us earlier for about an hour.
Me: Are you all together?
Meg: No. Kelly 1 and 2 just left.
Me: (Actually taking an interest now) What? You were supposed to stay together!
Michele (from dressing room): Maybe we should go…
Me: No. It’s okay. I have Kelly 2’s cell number. Dammit, she’s ignoring the calls. (Texting) Kelly, reply to this message or I call your mom.
Kelly 2: Okay.
Me: Make up, okay? It’s a party for christsake.
Kelly 2: We are back with them.
Meg: Kelly 1 just told us if she had her period she would’ve killed us.
Me: Um, what?
Meg: Kelly 1 is now crying! JUST COME PLEASE!
Michele (emerging from the dressing room in a very flattering red blouse): She’s crying? Maybe we should go.
Me (shoving her back inside to try green shirt): They cry all the time.
Meg: KELLY 1 IS CRYING AND ITS A DISASTER!
Me (to Michele): Hey, she used all caps this time.
Michele: Okay, let’s just go.
Me: Trust me, it will be fine by the time we get there.
Meg: Kelly 1 won’t come with us and Kelly 3 is throwing up in the bathroom.
Me: Kelly 3 always throws up when she eats weird combinations. (Looking at Michele) Fine. Meet us at Younkers.
Meg: No, meet us at jcpenney.
Me: (sigh of a thousand martyrs) Fine.
By the way, when we got there, they were all best friends again. Imagine that? I never did find out what was meant by “bathroom confusion,” although maybe that’s for the best. When I asked them what the whole thing was all about, they didn’t know.
The rest of the night passed in a blur, basically because of one very yummy bottle of Malbec.
The piece de la resistance came at 2am. I woke up to find six girls standing over me.
Me: Yes?
Kelly 2: Do we have anymore duct tape? We used it all.
A few hours later they woke me again.
Kelly 3: I made a list of the 19 different donuts you can get us at Dunkin’ Donuts.
Me: Wow. There really are 19 different donuts here. Wait, what does “NO CAKE” here in pink mean?
Kelly 3: No cake donuts. The other kind.
Me: Aren’t all donuts cake?
All girls: NO!
To their credit, I handed the list they made to the kid behind the counter and he said he could do it. I threw in a couple of “cake” chocolate donuts for me. After all, I think I earned it.
Here’s what they were doing with the duct tape:
They were duct taping each other into Meg’s new tv box and sliding whoever was inside all over the house.
I can NOT make this stuff up, people.
-The Assassin