i’m volunteering at and attending a conference this weekend. beyond knowing that i’ll be washing plenty of dishes after dessert tonight and helping clean up after lunch tomorrow, i’m not too sure what to expect. i was emailing about this with a friend and he wrote, "I hope you’re expecting great things and that you get great things out of it."
he’s right. I should be expecting more. and not just from the conference.
mom told me yesterday that she booked the hotel for easter. my parents will be in town for five days, including easter. she also wanted to know if i wanted her to bring a ham. on the sixteen hour drive from new york to nashville.
of course, i want her to bring a ham.
when i was telling my best friend, katie, about the ham conversation, she laughed for a second and then got right down to business.
"listen. your mom is making ham dinner for easter? i hope she knows i’m making the stuffing."
glossing over the fact that she wasn’t even invited, i let her know that we don’t usually have stuffing with ham dinner.
"well i don’t care. i’m making the stuffing. your mom can make the ham, and your dad can make veggies on the grill. i’ll bring the marshmallows."
i reminded her that is was indeed easter we’d be celebrating, and that it wasn’t the summer of 2002, when we had backyard cookouts and bonfires every weekend at my parents’ house.
"heck yes it’s easter. which is why i’ll be expecting an easter basket from your mom."
i said, "i hope you like peeps."
"you’d better believe i like peeps. i want peeps, and chocolate bunnies, and peanut butter cadbury eggs, and snickers bars shaped like peeps, and milkshakes, and also socks."
i called my mom to let her know about the list of demands, and she just said, "she wants her own easter basket?"
but if i know my mom, katie will get peeps on easter.