Dinner and a show

Those who know me well know that organization is not my strong suit. So doing the big turkey dinner Easter thing was a bit of a challenge, logistics-wise. But I planned. And I stuck to my schedule, and things were going swimmingly. When my guests arrived, the house was clean and sparkly and smelled wonderfully of roasting turkey and stuffing. The girls were dressed in dresses, and other than a slight dose of Easter-chocolate-related sugar overload (they would have made meth addicts look lethargic), they behaved well.

We noshed on garlic-feta spread and sesame rice crackers while waiting for the turkey to be done, and then some ribs I'd done in the slow cooker because I was afraid there wouldn't be enough food (<- delusional). Leah and Rachel had set the table (sorta) and were playing happily in the living room with Becca and Maggie when the turkey came out of the oven. I asked Andy if he would carve the turkey while I mashed the potatoes and finished the gravy.

And, because this is my house, where Murphy's Law rules supreme, Max took that opportunity to come racing up the stairs from the basement with a live mouse in his mouth.

He ran into the living room with it, and dropped it. Girls sprang onto couches, shrieking. He chased it into Leah's bedroom. Leah immediately had a meltdown at the thought of a mouse in her room. I abandoned the gravy and got the heavy leather fireplace gloves on, grabbed a flashlight and headed into her room. Max came along for moral support. Between the two of us we caught the little guy and pitched him out the front door. Then I washed my hands, poured a glass of wine, and returned to my dinner party.

I bet this never happens to Martha Stewart.

It's good to have friends who treat situations like this with aplomb. The mouse did not cut our evening short. We had a nice dinner and they pretended that my girls -- overexcited, overtired, and nearing sugar narcosis -- were charming rather than annoying, especially when Rachel in Mad Director mode, insisted that we all act out Cinderella after dinner. Mags was Cinderella, Shell was the evil stepmother, Bec and I were ugly stepsisters, Leah was the prince, and Andy got tagged to be the fairy godmother, complete with crown and wand. I did take a picture of him dressed for his role, but I'm not going to share it with the internets. Friends that can deal with a mouse at a dinner party are ones you want to keep.