It's Gettin' Pretty Bad

Our director for The Sound Of Music is disciplined about ending times. If the rehearsal is slated to finish at 9:30 pm, we do. So, true to fashion, as the final "1-2-3" count of our waltz ended she called out, "That's it! It's 9:30 -- see you all next time!" No more run-throughs for us.

I turned to my dear friends, Mike and Renee, explaining that I would need to call for a ride. But Rick and Carina, my only sure hitch, would be tied up until 10:45 pm. "Could I just come to your house, call from there, and hang out for a while?" "Sure," said Mike with a yawn. When we got there I called and left the message on Carina's cell phone to give a call to the DeVoe's where I would be waiting.

We sat and had refreshments, shared stories and laughs, looked at scripts being considered for a dinner theater project, laughed and talked some more. We were having a good time, in spite of the fact that they were both tired. I assured them that they could head to bed and I would just wait. But one story led to another.

At 10:45 pm the phone at long last rang. I answered it rather chipperly (don't you love to coin words?) and my honey's voice replied, "Hello, Renee." "This isn't Renee!" I exclaimed with a giggle and a twinkle (simple things still amuse me!) "Did you get my message?" I queried. "Yes," he said, "is there something wrong with the car?"

Grand pause.

"Do I have a car here?" came my faltering response. Perplexed, I continued, "I do? Oh..."

Another pause, then laughter broke out from every quarter. My guests were rolling off the couch, my husband and daughter were in stitches, and I was roaring. Tears filled my eyes as I gasped for breath. "Tell her to be careful or she'll wet her pants!" was the advice I could hear over the phone from my daughter.

Sure enough, I had driven. It was all coming back to me now.

After a few more minutes of uncontrollable laughter, Mike graciously picked himself up off the floor and drove me back to the parking area. When he noticed that my van was right next to the door and that we had practically walked right past it to get to his car, he fell into hysterics all over again. So did I.

It is getting bad, for sure. And I have more stories just like this one to verify my words. So if you find that I forget something, please have patience with me. It may get worse yet!