Anyway, we were invited to the home of a couple whom Todd and I both adore. They have small children and I knew Catie would love it. After our 5:30 T-ball scrimmage where Catie's team won with an imaginary, made up score of 8-2, we headed over. The crawfish was incredible. Kudos to our hosts. But then, it happened. As the adults enjoyed each others company in a much needed huddle on the back patio, the kids' Friday Fatigue (as I call it) started becoming apparent. It started when their sweet 5-year-old son came screaming from the darkness because he was hit in the face with something never really identified, I guess. My son and the other 10-yr-old there come behind him saying that HE was throwing stuff FIRST! Really?? You chose THIS NIGHT to defend yourself against a 5-year-old? That was it, the start of a series of several events that made Zac seem like he and Charles Manson were in cahoots. Catie was her usual high spirited self and spent her time being social with the little kids, only embarrassing me the one time she came out with some contraption which she put on her chest and called "boobies". Nice.
As a mom of three and a teacher of 76, there are times we can't explain why a normally sweet kid suddenly goes postal for an evening. The night was fun, which is good, since it was probably our last. I swear we're nice people with nice kids. Really! I mean it!
Lesson: Simple. Live and learn.