Matt's BBQ

This was an event. Nay, more than an event....a journey. Not unlike the Iliad. Long. Fraught with anger, peril, but it had a happy ending. If it didn't, I probably would be laying in bed trying to forget, but I'm here, posting about it. That's good. Let me tell you about it.

Matt's a nice guy. That's why I married him. Well, being a nice guy, he likes doing nice things for people. So he offered to have all the guys that work for him in the warehouse over for a BBQ. Me, being married to a nice guy....said ok. And then the anxiety started to sink in.....

For those of you that don't understand, let me explain. Every time we have people over to our house, I fall into a tailspin of stress, anxiety, crankiness (that's for Matt's benefit, I own up to it, occasionally) over cleaning the house and whatever else in on the agenda. I don't know why I punish myself this way, it's just part of the magic that makes me, me.

Well, everything that could make getting ready for this BBQ more difficult, was bound to happen. We bought a nice, big charcoal grill. Seemed like it would be simple to assemble. Uh, NO. Big NO. The directions were very confusing. Only 2 of the bazillion parts were numbered. That fact still boggles my mind, why bother numbering 2? After two very frustrating days of assembly, Matt couldn't get the drawers and door to fit correctly. Come to find out that the bottom of the grill was put on incorrectly. This piece was one of the first pieces put together, and we had to do some tricky un-assembly to fix it.

In the process Matt pinched himself pretty bad with some pliers. And after many unpleasant things to say to the manufacturers of the grill. It was done. Looks great. I was so proud that Matt stuck through it. Even after we realized that we could have had someone from the store put it together. Irony.

We also had to brave the store about 5 times trying to get all the food we needed. Due to my self induced anxiety, I kept forgetting things. Even though they were written plainly on my list.

SIGH.

And there was the realization that my son is mortally afraid of the vacuum. Even the next day, while safely comforted in the arms of his big, tough dad, Luke was giving the vacuum the hairy eye-ball and looked like he was about to cry.

Can you write therapy off on your taxes? This is good information to know.

Well, everything came together at last. And I only crabbed at Matt a few times. Quite an accomplishment I made sure he recognized. People came over. Ate our food. Laughed a lot. And I was in bed before 10pm. Yes!!

And two of Matt's employees brought their spouses, which is cool. Otherwise I would've been the only girl. And they brought their kids. Which was nice for Luke. I'll post about that next. It was pretty funny.

But for now, I'll just go back to bed for a nap. All that crabbing makes me tired.