I got invited to dinner at my sister’s place last night. Except she was away in Dubbo at a family function with her husband and son.
The invite came from her best friend, who I hadn’t realised was housesitting.
I’d forgotten my sister was away when the invite arrived on Messenger. I just thought it was slightly odd that her best friend had sent a message offering to cook me lasagna at my sister’s house. Kinda like “opposites day” except with my social life.
I love that my sister’s place is my entertainment hub even when family members aren’t in residence.
So I popped into the bottlo for some prosecco and headed over for a laugh and a feed.
My sister’s bestie is a cack. I’ve know her since she was born, waaaaay back in the 70s in Adamstown Heights. She lived in the house three doors down from ours.
I created a street scandal when I told her and all the other kids in the neighbourhood the facts of life after “Mother-Daughter Night” in sixth class.
And she was one of the lovely people who travelled to Sydney from far and wide for my 50th.
But guess what??? My sister had arrived home early from Dubbo … so it was party time!!!!
Which I needed because yesterday had its challenges.
The crazy kicked off when the youngest called to say a bird had flown into the house and she couldn’t get it out and she had to go to skipping training. Okey dokes, not much I can do about that darls, just shut the front door and I’ll sort it out later.
Then I was gob smacked by this magic trick on Facebook …
Then I cried over this gorilla birth …
And then there was the Mystery of the Missing Table.
Confession: I ordered another bar table, this time counter height. To avoid having to ask to work from home to wait for it, I asked it to be delivered to my office.
At 4pm it still hadn’t arrived, so I messaged the warehouse. They said it was on its way and would be there by 5pm, she’ll be sweet.
At 5.15pm my office had shut for the night and I was sitting on the front step still waiting. The delivery bloke rang to say he wouldn’t be there until 5.30pm, so I asked him to deliver it to my house after all.
I headed home to discover the bird had finally flown away through a window … after leaving panicked diarrhoea all over my new white curtains …
At 5.45pm the table still hadn’t arrived and I was due to pick the youngest up from skipping training at 6pm … while simultaneously frying meatballs because the youngest can’t eat lasagna on her anti-eczema diet.
The delivery man called to say he’d be there at 6pm … but I wouldn’t be … so he reluctantly agreed to leave it on the verandah.
I bolted off to get the youngest, bolted home to take the table inside, bolted to my sister’s place and discovered she was back in residence and poured myself a large glass of prosecco.
After a lovely lots-of-large-personalities-around-one-table dinner I headed home to clean bird poo off the floor, the window sill, the rug, the white curtains …
Geezy louisey, my life, as per usual, never dull.
And now I just need to get the Allen Key out again and build another freaking piece of furniture.
I’ll have Allen Key PTSD pretty soon.
Song of the day: Kylie Minogue “Can’t get you out of my head”