I need to stop trying to do it all.
This morning I helped serve breakfast to 50 varsity football players at a local diner. My job was putting two slices of bacon on each plate. The plates already held two large pancakes (5" in diameter), hash browns and scrambled eggs with sausage. Those boys can eat.
This evening at the game, I need to bring a fruit platter for the Varsity Parents Potluck, and thirty 20-ounce bottles of Gatorade for the players to drink after the game. I also need to bring home one or two dozen pairs of band uniform pants to wash. Unfortunately, the band room is not near entrance to the locker room. I suspect football players can quench their thirsts more rapidly than band members can change their clothes. After I dispense the drinks, I'll pick up the pants.
This weekend is nothing compared to homecoming weekend (September 26-27). What stroke of insanity possessed me to register for an SCBWI-MI conference the same weekend as a parade, a football game and a semi-formal dance? My husband can get our sons to the dance. He's way better at tying ties and taking pictures than I am. The main problem is getting the Sousaphone to the beginning of the parade route without using my roomy station wagon.
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