From Perfection to Poo-Pourri
My ideal candlelight dinner party didn’t end up perfect like I imagined.
In my head, I planed something outstanding. I would start early in the week and by Saturday night when my guests arrived, they would applaud my homemade manicotti accompanied by homemade sauce along with the beauty of my table setting complete with my finest dinnerware and polished silver.
Lori and Brian were prompt and I creviced in Brian’s hug. My invitation made him feel loved in the thick of appointments during the week with the VA giving him the run around as they treated the newly diagnosed tumor on his liver. I embraced his exhausted Lori, weary and warn these days, and invited them to grab a seat at my altar of perfection in the dining room where I lit the candles and we sipped our sodas waiting for my kids to join us.
When Amy and Mark arrived, we chatted as we dipped crusty bread in olive oil and spices. Tom served his delightful platter of antipasto and then we dug into my homemade pasta entrees. It was an evening that transcended them all. I made a pot of coffee and served it with my homemade Italian Cream Cake, the piece de resistance.
Our stunning Amy looked and spoke with elegance, but she never fools her mama and I bristled when I opened her beautifully wrapped gift. Boisterous crackles filled my dining room when I held up a box of winter, summer, spring and fall Poo-Pourri, the spray for the toilet before you go to the bathroom. I’m a clueless country girl and it made it all the funnier. Tom pulled up the commercial on his desktop and we all gathered around his big screen, holding our sides with laughter. See it here.
The night ended too soon. We all hugged goodbye. When I placed the last plate in the dishwasher, Brian knocked at my back door. It had been constantly raining all evening and as his van pulled away in the soft mud, he got stuck. I mean really stuck! It took the guys over two hours to get his van up and going. I knew they would figure it out; my goodness, they survived the war zone in Viet Nam.
PRAISE GOD WHO RESCUES US IN THE MUD
This is my story of the perfect intimate dinner party gone bad. I am, again, reminded that perfection does not exist and that my friends and family are the tools that God uses to make me laugh and release me, and keep me humble and free from my fantasy that, well, I am royalty.
As we sojourn together in this life, I’m remembering it’s not about me. I’m just a country girl with a vision and I thank the Lord for those who love me with a rich and rewarding love but won’t let me get away with anything!
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