My day has centered around the fact that my wife invited a couple that she knows from her
cult church and their two babies over for the afternoon. There were going to be games, food, booze, and lots of playtime for bonzos.
All morning I’ve been cleaning the playroom, which is like saying I’ve been cleaning the city landfill. It ain’t pretty. Thing 1 was kind enough to help me by pointing out the various toys I missed while he sat in the center of the pile like the proverbial king of the mountain and remained oblivious to the plight of his people, namely me.
I’ll be honest, as open and outgoing as I am, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to having company, but Tricia was, and therefore, I did what needed to be done.
Then she calls me, as I’m standing sweaty and shirtless amid a stack of Lincoln Logs, Tinker Toys and Dr. Seuss books, to tell me I don’t have to stick around if I don’t want to. Turns out the husband, a guy I have never met, had decided he was too busy to come over. His wife and kids would still attend.
What kind of crap is that? Granted, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to his arrival, but that’s how I am. I’m sure once he was here and we had a beer or two that I would be enjoying myself. The thing is, this sort of thing happens all the time. We make plans with couples or groups and people flake for reasons that don’t sound very important. They sound flaky.
I don’t take it personally, as in I’m the reason, but I am a bit put-off by it. I would never do that to my wife. If something is important enough to her, then regardless of how I feel, I am going to make the most of it. Of course, things do come up, and that’s life. It’s understandable. Yet, when said thing existed at the time plans were made, and then it suddenly becomes more important at the last minute. That, my friends, is rude.
Am I the only one that is bothered by the wishy-washy mentality that people seem to have about plans and promises? Is it okay for people to decide that their sock drawer is more important than a day spent cleaning, shopping, and preparing at someone else’s expense?
I don’t know. This mountain may be a molehill, but christ, I’ve been freaking sweating, man.