I am sitting here waiting for a phone call from Joe. He is driving back toward home from the airport, where he has picked up Katie and her boyfriend, Jeff and we are all going to meet at Luna de Noche for dinner once he gets close to our area of town again. I have been going insane cleaning and decorating, putting a fresh flower arrangement in Katie's room, clean crisp sheets on every bed, candles lit, a new welcome mat out front and a muscle in the back of my neck that is killing me from my nerves and tension. I have been a whirlwind of activity, effort and nerves, as if Katie will walk in here, look around and say "You know Sheri, I wasn't too sure about you, but dang, that peppermint hand wash in the bathroom is NICE! Welcome to the family!" I swear they could make a sitcom about my thought process.

As I have been cleaning and doing laundry that seems to reproduce faster than rabbits, I was musing on the volatile joy that it is being the mother of boys. I find it highly ironic that I can find fresh, clean, STILL FOLDED clothing in their laundry hamper....but one pair of underwear. Someone explain that to me....they are more than willing to wash things that are still clean, but get them to change their underwear.....??

Yeah. So.

There's the phone and my stomach has heaved and turned. I think its a margarita kind of night. I pray we all have a good weekend together. I pray she likes me. I pray Joe behaves around her new boyfriend. Y'all can pray for me too.

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