I took the bull by the horns yesterday and scheduled a play date for Sara. This little girl ("A") is in another first grade class at Sara's school. I've met her a couple times and Sara likes her. Now, words cannot describe the trepidation I experience when calling someone I do not know and trying to convince them that we are normal non-serial killers who would like to spend time with their kid. I left a nervous and stuttering message for the mom introducing myself and Sara and asked if we could schedule a play date. The father calls back 10 minutes later and says he is the stay at home dad and he would love to have us over. Oooops! There is my first faux pas. I foolishly assumed her mother would be in charge of play dates. Apparently I live in 1956 and it never crossed my mind that the dad would call and invite us over. Thankfully he was a good sport.
So, I load up my overly excited 6 year old and my giant 21 month old boy and head over to this girl's house. Now I get to make idle chit chat with some guy I don't know and chase my son around his yard. Chasing Christian around is a bit like following a ball in a pinball machine. Oh what fun. The girls have a great time playing with the new puppy. Christian (who is twice as big as this dog) is terrified. So, he sat his big booty on my lap and gave the dog the stink eye for 45 minutes. Turns out the dad was a great guy and the afternoon was quite pleasant. Departure was a less than pleasant scene. Ok, the opening scene from "Saving Private Ryan" was more calm and serene. Christian had finally warmed up to the dog and they were playing fetch. Yes, it was a mutual game of fetch. And the dog listens better than my son, in case anyone was wondering. Somehow Sara had lost her shoes and socks. I say 'somehow' because I chose not to ask. Some things I put in the "I don't need/want to know" category. I load Christian into the car. He is not happy about leaving his new furry little buddy and has no qualms about voicing his anger. Sara has temporarily gone deaf and does not hear the 6 requests to get in the car. She ends up in the car barefoot. Victory is mine. I now have 9 minutes to get home, change them out of their clothes (because I am allergic to dogs), get them cleaned up and start dinner because in 9 minutes they will be the babysitter's problem. It's amazing what you can get done in 9 minutes when you are properly motivated (i.e. escaping your kids for the night).