The weekend that shaved five years off my life

I didn’t post yesterday because we were very busy here with all our big Columbus Day celebrations. I cooked a turkey and we had a live band and a pinata in the shape of the Santa Maria.

Or maybe I just slept in and we had Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast.

Which was honestly better than a pinata because we had a full weekend and I might’ve lacked the arm strength to beat a papier mache’ boat until candy fell out.

I think I mentioned that I spoke at my mother-in-law’s church this past Saturday. And so I spent most of last week alternating between being a complete hermit and worrying. I’m not sure why I was so nervous but I think it was because I’d never spoken at a place where I knew so many people.

As it turns out, it was all fine. And actually fun to see so many familiar faces. I’m putting that in writing so I can save myself the hassle of all the panic attacks next time.

After the event was over on Saturday I felt like I’d ran a marathon. I was like TO MY BONES exhausted. But it was P’s birthday and I wanted to make him a chocolate sheet cake because that’s just the kind of wife I am. And by that kind of wife, I mean that I’m the kind who waits until the last minute to do something to celebrate her husband’s forty-second birthday.

Unfortunately, I think my brain was a little tired from all the morning events and something went awry in my sheet cake process. I still don’t know where it derailed exactly, but I think it was somewhere between the addition of the buttermilk and the eggs. And then the icing was just tragic. You know how icing for sheet cake is supposed to almost pour over the cake?

Yeah.

Mine just kind of fell in clumps over the cake. The cake with burned edges.

So apparently I can either speak to a group of people OR bake a good cake. Not both on the same day. That exceeds my skill level.

On Saturday night we went over to Gulley’s house to watch the Aggie game. Which, for those of you who follow sports may already know, ALMOST KILLED ME DEAD. Seriously. I was hyperventilating. I went through the seven stages of grief. TWICE.

And then Sophie texted me that she and her sister were watching the game and changing locations in the house in the hopes of altering the Aggies’ mojo. Not even two minutes later the Aggies scored to cut Mississippi’s lead to three and I texted Sophie “DO NOT MOVE FROM WHERE YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!” Because nothing really bonds people like shared superstitions about what will make nineteen-year-old boys play better football.

Then the Aggies pulled a win out of their hats. I would say they pulled it out of something else but this is a family blog. Either way, Gulley and I jumped and screamed like two fools all over her living room. I realize it’s just a game, but it felt huge for the Aggies to come from behind to win. That hasn’t happened in a long time.

(In truth, I kind of realize it’s just a game. After the fact I realize it’s just a game. During the actual game I tend to react in a way that would cause someone to think lives are at stake.)

Sunday morning we got up for church and I realized a serious cold front had blown through. If you live north of Dallas prepare to mock me, but temps plummeted to around 56 degrees and I felt like I needed a down jacket. It was freezing.

After church I spent most of the rest of the day wrapped in a fleece blanket while wearing flannel pajamas. I kind of wanted a fire in the fireplace. Maybe eat chili for dinner. Roast some marshmallows. In other words, I was in full winter mode.

Which is why it’s so depressing to find out that it’s going to be back in the 90s by the end of the week.

So that was our weekend.

Except I left out yesterday when I took Caroline shopping. But that’s a whole post of its own that I’m saving for tomorrow because I’m struggling to find words.