Sunday lunch was barely finished when the text came.
'We just pulled into Castle Rock,' it read. 'We'll wash off the road dirt and be at your house 430-ish.'
"Who's this?" the Brick said, looking accusingly at me. As if I'd invited the Mormon Tabernacle Choir over for tea and snacks.
(After a grueling stint on Worship Team -- 7:30 or 8 a.m. practice, then two services' worth of music afterwards-- we generally don't accomplish much on Sunday afternoons except a long nap.)
I had no idea.
A quick look at my phone produced the names of Auntie C and Uncle R. They enjoy traveling, and we meet up with them now and then. Strangely, my aunt had just been at our niece's baby shower, hosted by The Mama, Cousin Joy and yours truly. (It was in Michigan, I couldn't be there, but I helped with costs.) Had Auntie C. said something to The Mama...and both forgot to mention it to me?
We texted back -- 'Come at 530ish instead.' No answer, but naptime beckoned.
The alarm rang: 5:00 p.m. We were both feverishly cleaning toilets, loading the dishwasher, shoving piles aside to get the table set. It didn't look too bad, considering we've been packing and renovating for weeks.
Somehow a meal was prepared. The teakettle was on. As the Brick pointed out, we even put on CLEAN SHIRTS.
After 6 p.m. No aunt and uncle. Where could they be?
Finally, about 6:30, we called. Auntie C. had accidentally re-sent the text they used last June, when visiting us. (Apparently she didn't notice that I'd answered her back earlier in the day.) They were still at their house in Lansing.
The house looked cleaner. The dishwasher was running, and the kitchen tidied up. We had steak tacos, instead of the usual popcorn, for Sunday night supper.
I called The Mama, to apologize for thinking badly of her. (She just laughed.)
Auntie C. was embarrassed and contrite. The Brick told her not to worry about it. He enjoyed the meal so much, he said to tell her to text again next week!
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