Sista Wives

Patrick and I recently decided to let a homeless family live with us...I mean, it IS Christmas after all.  So after interviewing a few prospective candidates, we decided on our good friends, Abby and Steve (and we let them bring their kids too).  Kidding aside, we were blessed to be able to share our home with this fabulous family for a little while...and Patrick and I both tried very hard to reign in the deranged zoo that is our household and appear semi-normal for 10 days.  This is much harder than it sounds.

I started off the weirdness several weeks before when I announced at Bible study that our son would be sleeping in our closet for the duration of their stay.  A few of the fellow moms in the room broke out some seriously horrified expressions.  Apparently it is not normal to put your son in a closet to sleep.  Or maybe it's not normal to have a closet the size of a bedroom.  Whatever the case, normal it ain't.

On the day they moved in, the presence of Claire (our demon possessed cat) made it essential that I lay down our house rules immediately after their arrival.   And when your first and only house rule is "Don't leave any baby bottle nipples or sippy cup tops unattended for more than a quarter of a second," I tend to think you automatically get some normal points taken away.

Also immediately after their arrival, Rudy (Abby and Steve's dog) must have questioned Dr. Vezer's credentials, resulting in a dog fight and leaving The Good Doctor irritated and crabby for the duration of their stay.  Quixx then thought he would lighten the mood by showing Abby and Steve just how well endowed he thinks he is by proudly displaying his family jewels.  Oy. 

The next morning came our next normality mess-up...but I must plead ignorance on this one.  I really didn't know that it is not normal to sleep in until 9 (or 10) a.m. when you are home with your child (before you go turning me in to child protective services, please note that my child also sleeps that late...yes, even in the closet).  Nor did I know that normal people can get themselves and two children ready, fed, and out of the house before 9 a.m. (I am still inclined to think that this is above and beyond normal...but that could just be my laziness talking).  I promise myself as I sleepily wander down the stairs at 9:30 and find myself quite alone and in my pajamas, that I will do better tomorrow.  (But I don't.)

Fast forward a couple of days, and the grand finale of craziness came during our Bible study's Christmas party, which I had agreed to host.  Claire, Oti, and The Honorable Judge Colonel Reverend Felix Ulysses Cornelis Barbosa Cheshire the Third, Leader of the Spanish Inquisition, part-time Pirate and Cat of Wealth (if THAT doesn't prove that we are entirely normal, I don't know WHAT does...) continued to show their true nature by knocking a borrowed crock-pot (sorry again, Katire!!) off our counter and smashing it into a million pieces.  I was going to use it to make pulled pork...but don't worry, even though the party started at 5:00 pm and it was now 1:00 pm, I hadn't bought the pork yet.  Just call me Kelsey Stewart. 

Because I am obviously an excellent party planner, I decided not to worry about it (or cleaning my house) and I roped my mom into going Christmas shopping instead.  I figured I'd pick up Cane's chicken for an instant main dish, and voila!  Problem would be solved.  But when I pulled into the Cane's drive-thru and realized how much it would cost to buy chicken for that many people...I instantly changed my incredibly cheap mind.  At 3:00 pm, I lamely ordered my mom and I both a piece (mostly because I am too wimpy to tell the faceless drive-thru speaker that I didn't want anything) and pulled away without a main dish.  For the 20 guests.  That would be at my dirty house in 2 hours.

So I got home with a pre-cooked ham from GFS in hand and I started hurriedly shoving clutter and assorted things into random drawers, closets, and rooms; all the while trying to figure out how exactly you fix a ham (since of course I've never done that before).  I asked Steve whether Abby is ever this disorganized.  His reply?  "If she is, I don't know about it."  Double Oy.  Trust me, Patrick knows ALL about it. 

But I think we recovered nicely and really were able to show them just how normal of a family we are when we wrapped Claire up and attempted to give her away in the white elephant gift exchange.  Totally.unequivocally.normal.

Despite all these social blunders, we really enjoyed getting to spend some time with some of our favorite people (and having dinner made when I got home from work was awesome!)  And hopefully we reigned in the weirdness enough that they were able to enjoy it a little bit too.  Because trust me, despite all evidence to the contrary, we really were on our best behavior.  I mean, Patrick was even able to refrain from talking to the asparagus in the refrigerator until after they left...