Jeffrey’s scout meeting this year has moved from the fairly easy hours of 4-5 pm after-school, to the unearthly after-dinner hour of 7-8 pm. This poses many obvious problems, but since the last thing I desire on earth is to be a scout leader, I go with whatever they tell me with a nod and a smile.
Last night, what that meant was a perfect storm. Abby had just stepped from the bathtub and was wrapped in a pink fairy towel and dripping a puddle onto the kitchen floor. Dinner was finishing up and all the kerfluffle that entails was underway while Jeffrey was searching for his kerchief so his scout uniform would look proper. Bean was getting into the shower, and like all things Bean does, he had to do it Bean style. Which meant, just as dinner was on the table, the phone rang, my cell rang, and Bean grabbed the shower curtain and pulled the whole thing down on his head into a giant crashing wet shrieking kicking tidal wave of a heap in the bathtub.
I got him cleaned up and ten towels down to soak up the tsunami, and then threw everyone in the car to take Jeffrey to scouts. Dinner? Shoved in mouths on our way out the door. In the church parking lot, completely imposing on my visiting teacher’s husband, I asked if he could please please please bring Jeffrey home at 8, because honestly, Abby and Bean were going to be asleep by then. He smiled and nodded at the crazy lady.
Back at home, Bean and Abby were both asleep by 7:30. I had just sat down to begin my homework (an essay arguing secular humanism with Salman Rushdie- my brain hurts) when there was a huge clatter out on my lawn. Peering through the curtains, there were three trucks, a trailer and about a dozen boys in my yard, raking the 12 solid inches of leaves that blanketed my lawn. It was the Deacons, and I could have kissed each and every one of their awesome selves. These were the boys I used to teach for Sunday School, and I honestly love them. It was such a nice surprise.
Jeffrey was summarily dropped in our yard by my visiting teacher, so somehow her husband got her the Crazy Lady’s message, and Jeffrey hopped the fence and helped the Deacons finish up. Sometimes I really love being a Mormon.