Surprise Visit

My little brother (I use the word "little" loosely since Jim is well over 6'.) returned home from Iraq at midnight Monday. Although, I am looking forward to seeing him, our family plans to wait until he and his wife have a chance to settle in before we expect to see Uncle Jim and Aunt Neely. Hours later, I was standing in the church kitchen in the midst of preparing 20 wrap sandwiches to feed a group of meeting participants when my phone rang. I answered my Dad's call thinking he was calling with news about Jim's return home.
I was half right. Dad was actually on his way to my house. Which was a disaster. (The house, not my Dad.) And I was at church with several hours more work ahead of me. So I did the natural thing, and let pure panic wash over me as I tried to determine how to go from wrecked house and nothing planned for dinner to welcoming our guest. I also messed up a couple of sandwiches before recovering a measure of equilibrium while my mind wandered through potential dinner menu options to greet Dad after his long drive from out of state.
I called home ask Don to pull some chicken out of the freezer so we would have something besides the originally planned find-it-make-it for dinner. He reminds me that the children have, "...ninety zillion pounds of laundry backed up and spilling over..." as well as the detritus from a weekend when we were only home to make messes, not clean them up. (Awesome.) I begin to consider the benefits of curling up in a ball and rocking. Except that I don't really have any time to waste.
Once the lunch is served at the church, I head for home because my regular Monday playdate with Alexa and Maya is off since their Mommy's staff meeting is cancelled for this week. (This is actually good although I will miss them.) My painful joints are flaring up, so that hampers my speed and desire to move. Still, I run a couple of loads of laundry, do the dishes, marinate the chicken, and retrieve the assorted kids from school. We run to the grocery store for Granddad's nuts and Diet Coke. Don cleans up the dog hair, the children are sent scurrying to clean up their bedrooms and move more laundry while I start the potatoes. I figure I am going to be dead-on with the food ready just when Dad is due in... at which point he calls to say he is thirty miles from Suburbia after finally outrunning the rain that had slowed his earlier progress. I switch into higher gear. Evan jumps in to help. We get the food into the oven, and I help Don with the other tasks that remain to be done.
Once Dad arrives, the frenzied preparations end, and we all relax to welcome him. Whew. Now we get to just enjoy the visit, and our clean house. And eat Snickerdoodle Blue Bell ice cream. Yay!