The Morning After

Yes, it's all over but the headache. (Oh, and Trigger's actual graduation - which is next Tuesday.)

But the party has been had.

The invitations were sent (some of them - anyway - if I had your email address in my evite contacts . . .) The food was made/ordered/picked up (but paid for- in any event . . .) The tables and chairs were delivered from church (yes, I asked before taking this time. . . no pilfering at this party. . . the priests were invited.)

And perhaps - most importantly - the house was cleaned!

Now, by "cleaned" I don't mean just dusted and vacuumed. I mean de-cobwebbed. . . de-cluttered. . . de-junked. . . and de-bunked (okay, it wasn't actually debunked . . . but it rhymed nicely, now didn't it?)

And so here we are. . . the morning after. . . and only the post-mortem questions remain. . .

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Ponzi: Mom, can I have ten dollars? I have a sore throat and I can't find the tea kettle so I have to go to Starbucks to get a cup of tea.

Me: No, you can't go to Starbucks to get a cup of tea! The kettle's in the cabinet in the laundry room.

Ponzi: What's it doing there?

Me: I put it there to get it out of the way. . . you know. . . for the party.

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Trigger: Mom! Where are the tan sticky boobs? I left them next to the computer the other day!

Me: I put them in the laundry basket.

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Veggie: Hey! Where's that little snowman ornament that was still on the shelf in the kitchen? The one that said Let it Snow???? You know I hate it when you change things!!!

Me: Look on the bright side. You'll see it again next Christmas.

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Trigger: Mom! I'm in the laundry room, and the laundry basket's not here! Where is it????

Me: It's on the front seat of my van. . .

Trigger: That is soooooo annoying! Who would put a laundry basket in a car??? The party guests aren't allowed to see that we have laundry????

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Trigger Finger Guy: Liz, have you seen my Golf Magazine? I left it next to the toilet in the bathroom and I can't find it now. . .

Me: I kicked it under the bed (and then, for brownie points. . . ) for safekeeping.

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Veggie: And what about the tooth magnet that hangs on the refrigerator? How are we gonna know when it's time to call the dentist????

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and last. . . but not least. . .

Kasey: Hey! Where's that smelly dog toy that I carry around in my mouth the whole time? You know . . . the one that's supposed to look like a squirrel, but looks more like a drowned rat? Did it run under the couch again? Let's see. . . .I can't quite get my whole snout under there. . . Could you look for me? Could you?


Me: Kasey! How many times do I have to tell you? No barking in the house!


Kasey: Oh. . . but I bet if I cock my head to the side in that way I do, you'd move the couch for me. . . .

Me: And don't you look at me like that either!!!

Truth be told. . . there was one pilfered item at the party. Veggie pilfered the funeral pickles. But that, my friends, is a story for another day. . . .