First off, I have to come clean about this. I am hosting the poker group tomorrow (still) night (Wed.), and am struggling with what to, like, serve for snacks and stuff. See, the way it works is that guys bring their own drinks, and the host sort of offere up cap from the cupboard. This is only the third time we’ve even had poker, and one of the times I was late, so I don’t really know how it works. But I’m guessing that you go tot he store, pick up some food, and hide it. Then when everyone shows up, you act like you’re not all that excited to have them, and you are all, “Uh, let me see what I have lying around to eat.” Then you proceed to break the bag of chips out, and the half-eaten dip (actually strategically made to look like it was half-eaten, but really the other half is saved in the fridge for later) and maybe a couple slices of salami or someting. Everyone is cool about it, they pretend not to care about the food, but eat the shit out of it, and play some cards.
Also tomorrow night is a baseball game involving The Boy. He’s in fall ball, which is cool, so he’s playing baseball, like, 13 months out of the year now, but only when he’s not playing basketball (?), and that at least gets the rest of the people around this joit out for a time. Then the Boy, the Girl, and Christy will come back home to haze (theme?) everybody out of here.
At that point, another story enters. Yesterday, I got this phone call. I was in my weekly departmental meeting, which is great for us, but hardly the formal meeting that departments have been known to have, and our receptionist (director of first impressions?) enters. She approaches me, and whispers, “You have a phone call. It’s your daughter’s teacher and…um…she (in the most ‘I’m sorry for interrupting this major player meeting’ voice) says it’s important.” I’m like, “well, they ddon’t generally fuck around at her school, so I’m guessing it’s important,” but only in my head. I grabbed the phone, and hear, “Hey Ryan, the Girl took a fall and landed on her face. It’s pretty bad, but we can’t really make a judgement on what to do, so you need to get down here.” Sure thing. I informed my peers (like any of them really are) enough to worry the shit out of any of them that actually care, and bail. I get to the school, and the Girl is sitting with a teacher and some sort of boulder. Only the boulder is under the skin of her forehead. I look, say, “let’s go” and grab her to get to the ER.
Long story short, she’s fine. No concussion, no head injury, so we’re all cool. But now we have a problem. These guys, only one of which is at all acquainted with my kids, will see a four-year-old girl with a purple head walk in claiming that she “fell at school.” Like anybody in their right mind is going to believe that. And then Christy will defend me and it will look like I regulate with the back of my hand. And I’ll be all, “Dude, I’m not a bad guy” and all that crap. Then the poker group will leave pissed at me, and I won’t even have any food left.