I. and I are on the way to baseball practice while Chaz and the little boys head to tonight’s Cub Scouts banquet. It’s another night of divide and conquer that will end (if all goes well) with us all finishing dinner together. Or that’s the plan.
Thirty miles north of our designated meeting place, my phone bings to indicate a new text message from Chaz. He writes:
“On your way back from BB can you swing by Kroger and pick up some non-perishable items? They are collecting for the food drive tonight and I forgot to bring stuff from home. Thanks.”
I’m not surprised the cans got forgotten in the craziness of the weekend. It’s been non-stop activities since Friday night. Basketball. Birthday parties. Play dates. Adult party. Cake orders. Baseball. Cub Scouts. I look forward to Monday to recover from the weekend.
If we stop to pick up cans, we’ll miss dinner altogether. As it is, we’ll arrive an hour and a half late for a two and a half hour party. I struggle for a bit but ultimately choose to stop. How can I not?
Ian and I race into the grocery and grab a dozen cans of beans, a few cans of tuna and a bag of rice. Arms full, we race back towards the checkout.
We arrive too late for dinner but in time for the night’s entertainment, a circus performer who leads the kids in Spongebob Squarepants while I. and I nibble on leftovers I’ve scavenged from the kitchen.
It’s all good. It always is.