Last night was the rehearsal of the choirlet. We’re preparing some secular songs for a charity gig, so we sat around singing folk songs. Then we had cookies and grapes (and in some cases, cheesecake) and talked about our kids.
We’re different ages, from different places, with different numbers of kids (including one who has no children, but that didn’t stop her from joining in), but we all had tales to tell.
I have wonderful kids, but I was still able to join in with the story of my slacker son, who is a handsome musician who, as he explained to me, has “no problem with not working.”
“You need a roster of jobs,” said the Bostonian, in her very cute accent, “and if he doesn’t do it, kick him out.”
I think we all know I’m not actually going to kick him out, don’t we?
Look at this handsome crop of poison ivy, with the pretty lamastria and hostas in amongst it.
There’s a lot of yard work to be done.
I’m hoping that my husband, who has the day off, will get our slacker son to join him and get some of that yardwork done.
On the other hand, as the other ladies were telling their stories of ne’er do well kids featuring drugs and abusive marriages and jail terms, I was able to feel some relief that mine hadn’t been that bad. Yet, at least.
I have a new assignment from the magazine editor, invoices to send out, further discussion with the chocolatier, and with any luck, some GTD.
It is possible that #2 daughter is coming down this weekend. There’s a crawfish boil going on tomorrow night. While I don’t eat crawfish (I don’t eat arthropods, just as a general rule), it is one of the ladies of the choirlet holding the event, so I’m going to see if #2 wants to go. We can be vegetarians for the evening.