Thursday night our church held its annual summer salad supper for all the relief society sisters. This is one of our ward's great traditions and is a blast every single year. After gorging ourselves on pasta salads, green salads, jello salads, dessert salads, and any other kind of salad you can imagine (I don't even know where to begin categorizing the amazing apple-and-snickers salad someone brought) we ended up chatting. And chatting. And chatting. It was definitely past my (probably ridiculously early by most standards) bedtime by the time I got home.
Now, it's not entirely the activity's fault. Amber had a rough night with yet another upset tummy too, so that contributed. Still, you know you stayed out too late at a Relief Society activity when the next afternoon you're unloading the kids in a pet store parking lot feeling vaguely drugged and only mostly coherent. The jumble of toddler jargon is that much more difficult to decipher and you're feeling pretty good that the van is parked between two yellow lines, rather than right on top of them...although it is a little crooked. You're even patting yourself on the back that you remembered to throw a pair of shoes in the front seat for the one-year-old, so she'll be able to walk while you carry stuff.
And then as you open the side door all ready to put those shoes on your little girl, you make the startling realization that not only does your child not have shoes on, she doesn't have pants on either.
Or a diaper.
Yep. And that's when you know for sure that you stayed out too late at a Relief Society activity. :)