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“Mom, can I help?  Are we done now, Mom?  Are you ready to pull the chair out of the garage for me, Mom?  Can I bring this stuff outside?”

I’m having a slightly irrational day.  Usually, my children know enough to give me a wide berth on these days, but today I had promised them a tea party.  An elaborate tea party.  With tooty-fruity dresses and all.

When I had planned for this last week, I kinda hadn’t planned on the fact that my anniversary trip with my husband would be so very close, and I would be so woefully unprepared.

I thought I had everything under control weeks ago.


Now Paige was underfoot, desperately trying to move me along, wanting to help, and may as well have been shoving a fork under my cuticles with her rapid-fire questioning.

“No!  You cannot help, because then your sister will want to and there’s simply not enough room in the kitchen.  No!  I am NOT pulling the chair out of the garage right this second, we will deal with it when we get out there.  No!  You cannot bring these sandwiches outside because they have mayonnaise in them and if they’re out there too long before we are, they’ll go bad.  Just no.”

That was the last cranky flip out I allowed myself, and then dealt with the girls as they excitedly pull chairs into the kitchen and climbed up.  I bit my tongue when Allie sneezed on the sandwiches.  I bit my tongue when they argued over who was going to get me a spoon.  And I reminded myself that they were only trying to help.

It was fun watching their faces light up when the bread was turned into flowers and butterflies.  Or when they watched me dip the rims of their glasses in purple sugar.

“Why are you doing all this for us, Mom?” Paige asked.

“Do you like tea parties?”


“And are you my girlies?” I questioned.

“Well,” she pondered.  “Yeah!”

“Well, there you go.  What more excuse do I need?”

Plus your father and I are ditching you both to go to Disney in a couple days.  That makes us the worst parents in the world.  This is my consolation prize.

They had fun today, dressed in their Sunday best for a tea-like lunch.  With no tea actually involved.

I took some pictures of the attendants before they could sit down and destroy their dresses.

The little one has "trouble" written all  over her.

The little one has “trouble” written all over her.

And then this one.

Sisterly love.

Sisterly love.

And with the help of two little rugrats…and I use the term help quite loosely, here’s how our lunch turned out.

Fit for a princess...or two.

Fit for a princess…or two.

And more importantly, no one was shot in the making of this lunch.


*Disclaimer: My husband and I have taken the girls to Disney twice in the last two years, and plan on taking them twice next year.  This is our “honeymoon” trip ten years after our wedding, since we were too young and broke to afford a honeymoon then!