We read about Joseph in Egypt this morning, and how he was able, through the Spirit, to translate the dreams of first the butler and baker in prison, and then later the Pharaoh. We talked about Joseph's remarkable ability to keep bitterness from entering his heart even though so many others in his situation would focus on their victimization. It was a simple discussion, but one rich with 'ponderables', before I went into the kitchen to cook oatmeal for breakfast. Then I heard:
"Can I go get the baby up? And why is the cat orange?"
(Have you ever considered recording all of the things that are actually said in your house and cataloging them according to ridiculousness?)
The cat is orange? Well, he has this orange highlight across one side of him, and under his chin. The kids are all too old to paint him, and it is such an odd color anyway, that I ruled out fairly quickly any cat-grafitti. It wasn't sticky. It had no odor. I thought maybe he brushed up against a candle and scorched his fur, but no. It's still as smooth as ever. So, why is our cat orange? I'll get back to that one.
I just celebrated my 34th birthday on Sunday. Being broker than broke, I didn't expect any hoop-la, but once again, my tricky husband and children managed to sneak something under my nose. The kids came into our bedroom early in the morning and sang 'Happy Birthday' to me, my mom and my dad called and also sang. My oldest childhood friend called and sang into the answering machine. My little Aiden gave me a handmade card telling me that I was the best mom in the world and that he loves me very much. I threw enchiladas into the crockpot to cook so dinner would be easy later that evening. We all went to church and things seemed normal. I dealt with tired Conor through most of Sacrament Meeting in the hallway, I taught the Primary kids a Mother's Day song to perform next week, and I went into Young Women's and began teaching them a new arrangement of 'Sweet Hour of Prayer' by my pal, Hilary Weeks. The YW President asked if I could stay afterwards for a very short meeting. She said to go ahead and send my family home, she would give me a ride. But a half hour later when I walked through the front door, I was greeted with "SURPRISE!!!" and a chorus of party poppers exploding all around me. There were balloons and streamers everywhere, a big bouquet of lilies and Gerbera daisies adorned with ribbon, and a pile of my favorite candybars. And everything had been provided courtesy of the children's pooled resources. Apparently, Adam had taken the girls home with him during the second hour of church to decorate (which is why he balked just a little when I asked him to take the baby so I could teach Primary) and he had even let the bishop know that he would be breaking the Sabbath to go pick up the helium balloons, and the YW meeting afterwards was a sham, and I fell for the whole thing. Sometimes it's okay to be the fool. We had angel food cake with strawberries, whipped cream, and cream cheese frosting and we ate our crock pot enchiladas (really, really yummy). I put the bouquet in a vase of water and set it on the kitchen counter.
Later that day, I relocated the cat's food and water dishes because the baby emptied them for the umpteenth time. Poor kitty was thirsty. Ever since that baby came to stay, he's been a lot thirstier. Well, this explains why the kitty was uncharacteristically up on the kitchen counter looking for dripping water from the sink. And this is where he was when he stopped to smell the lilies, and rub on the lilies, and this is why the cat is orange. He's covered in pollen from his love affair with the lilies. It was no easy task solving this one. And so, yes, the entire family managed to arrange my affairs all day long so as to work on their undercover party scheme without my knowledge, and no, I never caught on. But I did figure out why the cat is orange, so there is some degree of redemption of my detective prowess.