Grand Central

I had high hopes for last night. Dillon and I were going to play outside while it was still light. We were going to come in and have a frozen pizza for dinner. Then he was going to have a bath and he would go to bed early, to catch up on sleep from Wednesday, when he stayed up late.

I was going to get in my pajamas and catch up on American Idol, and then go to bed early, too. Daniel was working.

That isn't what happened. We did play outside, but when we came in to cook dinner, my plans vanished before my eyes.

First, Paul came over. He was selling something, and I had to gear up to say "NO!" in my firmest voice. I am not the best at turning people away. He wanted to be social, and ask me about my job. I told him what I do, cause I love talking about what I do. So, I fell for his first trap, and was pinned at the door for 20 minutes while my frozen pizza burned in the oven.

I finally got rid of him, sending him on down the street. I pulled the pizza out of the oven, and heard another knock on the door.

It was my mom. We visited for a few minutes as I cut the pizza and got ready to feed Dillon.

Then there was another knock on the door. My neighbor Laura walked in, and my mom excused herself and left.

Laura stayed for almost an hour, while Dillon and I ate the middle part of the pizza. She had come by to complain about Paul, who came to her house and told her that I had sent him after buying two magazine subscriptions. Liar, liar...

About 40 minutes after Laura got here, there was a knock on the front door. In ran the twin girls of a friend of ours, shouting about Girl Scout Cookies and claiming that I owed them $21. They began playing with all of Dillon's toys.

Laura excused herself and left.

The twins dad staggered in behind them, holding six boxes of cookies. The girls (they are 6) were riding on Dillon's push car and rocking horse. They were pushing all the buttons on his play table.

Dillon was in the corner making room in his colon for dinner.

The phone rang. "I'll call you back!" I said immediately into the receiver when I answered it.

I wrote a check for the cookies, said goodbye to the girls, and checked the clock.

Dillon was late for bed! Ha!

We rushed to take a bath, then we read two stories instead of the usual three. He stretched out his arms for his crib, and I laid him down, where he promptly fell asleep.

Finally, a free moment! But I had someone to call back. So, I did that, quickly, cause I hate talking on the phone anyway.

Then I settled down to watch last week's AI. The phone rang again, prompting a twenty minute conversation. Please see the last paragraph for my true feelings about the telephone.

SIGH.

I turned the television off, cleaned the kitchen, took a bath and went to bed. Late.

At least it is Friday, right?