Grandma and Grand-dad arrived at our house last week and things have been on the go ever since. Between entertaining them and trying to keep the kids from jumping on their bed at 6 in the morning, hectic is just about the only word that fits.
This weekend we also had several special events that needed to be graced by our presence as well, one being the annual Back To School party and the other being a photography exposition about the American West.We got a note from one of the members of the town council that since I'm the only American living in the village, it was imperative that I come and join them for the official opening of the expo.
The fact that all the pictures were going to be of places where I had camped and acted like a crazy twenty year old oh so many years ago, made me worried that I would start bawling for my youth in front of not-so-total strangers (and total strangers) who already think I'm mad. Luckily for me, I held it together and manged to only whimper silently under my breath.
The opening toast was scheduled for 11:30am so between changing Rosebud's nappy and yelling at the rest of the tribe to find their shoes, it was about 11:38am when I yelled at Hubster that I was heading on over to the expo. He, at this point, was just getting out of the shower and his parents were meandering around the downstairs, waiting for their chance to use the potty.
When Hubster arrived at the expo about 15 minutes after me, the drinks had been served and the photographer had started his spiel about Monument Valley and the Grand Canyon. The kids were running around between the photos and Bubba-Love was cringing in fear from having just had a right telling off from Grandma Francaise over tearing pages in library books. I didn't see my in-laws arrive with Hubster, so I figured they had decided not to come in the end.
Who could blame them, really? Trying to carry on a conversation in a room full of French people, talking about places that for some reason cause their daughter-in-law to cry was enough to scare Hubster, I can't even imagine what it would have done to them. After about 45 minutes or so, I rounded up the tribe and headed back to the house, leaving Hubster to discuss the importance of good stone walls with two members of the village council.
I got back to the house only to realize that Hubster had locked the front door.
"ARGRAAAA. Why did he lock the door?!?"
And then it dawned on me.
Where were my in-laws?
If they hadn't come with Hubster, did they go out for a walk? How did they get past the dogs without a fight? Why did they lock the door?
Confused, I went to the basement door which, luckily, I had forgotten to lock. As I ran up the stairs and towards the front door, I saw my father-in-law fighting with the latch, trying to open the door.
"What are you doing there?" I asked.
"We were waiting for you," he replied.
"But, I thought you were coming with Hubster?"
"He's in the shower, isn't he?" piped up my mother-in-law from the lounge.
At this point, she joins us in the hallway, coat on and ready to go.
"But, the expo is over," I said sheepishly, realizing that they must have been sitting in the lounge, LOCKED IN, for the last 45 minutes.
With that, Hubster arrived back at the house.
"Where you been?" he asked his parents.
"Here. Waiting for you," they replied.
"But, I thought you were with Dig," he said. "She said she was going ahead with the kids."
"Kids, Hubster. I went with the kids."
"You know, I thought I saw him walking up the street," exclaimed my mother-in-law while pointing at Hubster.
As you can imagine, both Hubster and I are now being ever so careful about taking a full head count before leaving the house. We've also made sure to put a key in Grand-dad's pocket JUST IN CASE.