OK...Now this story is a bit embarrassing to tell.....
Many years ago we lived in a wonderful little town in Texas. We had amazing friends and a great community with many in our town.. When it came time that one of our friends was moving away, the women in our circle of friends decided to throw her a going away party. It was set to be a wonderful affair...gifts, games, desserts...the works! When I got my invitation I promptly RSVP'd and put the date on my calendar - it was on a weeknight the following week. I volunteered to bring a chocolate cherry cake, one that I was known for making. It was going to be a really fun girls night out party.
The day of the party I was busy wrapping my gift just so...the requisite gift bag, matching tissue paper, and of course, the decked out bow. It looked fabulous. I then went to work on the cake, stirring, mixing, measuring, baking away until it was just perfect. (Really it was a tupperware microwave recipe, but that really is less dramatic. I'm invoking creative license here!) With little time left to spare after my treacherous day of baking and gift wrapping, I went upstairs to get ready for the party.
I must insert here, that with three little kids at home and a traveling husband, parties were a rare happening and an incredible treat for me. I was so excited to have a night out!
I dressed to the nines - well probably the eights, sprayed my perfume that in those days only rarely got taken out of the cabinet, gave myself the once over glance in the mirror, grabbed the gift and the cake, and off I was to P-A-R-T-A-Y!
I was so proud of myself! I got out the door 15 minutes early! I figured I'd head over to the host's house and help her with last minute prep stuff, pouring punch, setting out casseroles and deserts, anything I could do to help. So I drove across our little town, carefully following the directions until I came upon the tiny street where her house was.
Perfect! I was early enough to get a spot right in front of her house!
I went to the front door. I knew I was the first one there because I didn't hear the thunder of chatter that you hear when a room full of women gather. I though to myself..." This is great! I'll get the best spot on the edge of the couch." Women...you know what I'm talking about - that spot that is not too close to the refreshment table that you'll be tempted to nibble, yet close enough to the open walkway that if you need to make a quick exit from that overly chatty gal-pal you have a clear path to freedom.
With cake in hand, gift bag slung over my arm, and me dressed to the eights and ready to be the life of the party, I knocked on the door.............
No answer. Maybe the host was in the kitchen and didn't hear me.
I knocked again. This time the dog barked, but no one answered.
I knocked a third time. The door slowly opened. There I stood face to face with the host, me with all my party garb, and the host - in her pajamas. Turns out, I was early. An entire week early.
She was very gracious about the whole thing, but I could feel the heat of embarrassment in my face. How could I make such a mistake. I must have mismarked the calendar. I returned home, humiliated with tears in my eyes as I explained the whole thing to my husband. I was almost too embarrassed to return to the part the next week.
So, why do I share this story?
I guess it's because over the years, I've learned that I need to cut myself some slack. Was it embarrassing? Yes. Will I ever make that mistake again? No. Was the whole incident kind of funny? Absolutely.
Now I see it as a really hilarious mistake. I even chuckle when I tell the story. Life gets a whole lot easier if we can learn to laugh at ourselves.
Hmmmmm.....would this have happend if I had been using the Organizational Hat Trick?