Easter 2009 at the Curmudgeon home -- Part One

Younger Daughter had her wisdom teeth pulled Thursday. We had to bring her home from her dorm Wednesday night so she could get to the oral surgeon at the crack of dawn. So she was on heavy-duty drugs from mid-Thursday on... and she brought home laundry.

Older Daughter had a bridal gown fitting on Friday afternoon; she drove up from Champaign for the event. Long Suffering Spouse accompanied Older Daughter. The purpose of this exercise was to find out what sort of alterations would be necessary to a gown that had been exhaustively measured and specially created according to these measurements only 60 days or so ago. Alterations are always necessary... and quite expensive. And there was a bit of a bait and switch concerning the veil. In general, bridal shops employ business tactics that would shame Somali pirates. Oh... and Older Daughter brought home laundry. Hers and her fiance's.

The Fiance (generally referred to in these essays as Older Daughter's Boyfriend) came in Saturday evening. His laundry, you'll recall, has already been accounted for.

Meanwhile, Middle Son was pitching the first game of a doubleheader Saturday. He called Friday night to let us know; after all, he wanted his parents to come and watch... and, oh, by the way, could we bring both cars? And the spare key for one of them? That way he could come home after the second game.

With his laundry.

Youngest Son had a game Saturday afternoon, too, and it was scheduled to start about the time his brother's would conclude. In a perfect world, I would have gone from one game to the other because Youngest Son also pitched.

But Long Suffering Spouse didn't come with me to Middle Son's game. She was frantically cleaning house and baking because Oldest Son was coming to dinner Sunday.

No, not with his laundry.

Although I could understand why you might have thought that.

Oldest Son had come by to visit recently -- and just coincidentally to drop off a new suit to get his trousers cuffed -- and, on his way out the door, he'd casually mentioned that his fiance would be available for Easter dinner this year. (As opposed to last year when he apparently left her alone in her studio apartment, a thousand or more miles away from her parents, eating beans out of a can. At least that's how I imagined it at the time.)

Long Suffering Spouse feels she just doesn't know Oldest Son's Intended. And she wants to try and get to know the young lady better... but Oldest Son's Intended has not really warmed up to us. Oh, she's polite and correct and seems very nice. And she's a great influence on Oldest Son. But... I think... Long Suffering Spouse would like the opportunity to have a grown daughter that she didn't have to fight with throughout the tweens and teens etc. My poor wife really wants to make a good impression. Good impressions involve both cleaning and baking, though I don't know why: Baking alone does it for me.

But the decision was made. Long Suffering Spouse would not come with me to Middle Son's game. Older Daughter would come get me after awhile -- so I could watch the game and leave the key; Older Daughter would then chauffeur me to Youngest Son's game.

I called home about the sixth inning to let Long Suffering Spouse know how her son was doing and to see if Older Daughter was on her way.

This was a mistake.

Long Suffering Spouse answered the phone... and she had just come out of Youngest Son's room. The clothes everywhere are typical of the teenager of the species... but the empty two liter pop bottles? The empty cans? The Gatorade bottles? The candy wrappers?

Long Suffering Spouse had moved beyond stressed. Loyalty required that I refuse to go to Youngest Son's game. I must instead insist on coming home so I could offer support, encouragement and try not to get killed.

And that's what I did. And I moved what had to be moved and washed as directed, too.

Anyway... we were finally all in position for Easter morning. And we'll get to that... later.