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I knew it would happen. Something about a mother’s sixth sense. We (any of us that are around and available) were invited to a 25th anniversary party for friends. I have known the couple and their parents for decades. In fact, the woman used to babysit for my terrible threesome. That she survived this challenge, grew up, and still opted for marriage (including the probability that she’d produce more little darlings like mine) speaks volumes about her determination and character.

At first I had to decline the invitation since I had made previous plans to go to a cottage. Then I learned that this woman was beside herself with glee that her former bridesmaids would be there. (Yup, I was one of them. And, I might point out, in my mid-forties, possibly the world’s oldest living bridesmaid.) When it appeared that the others couldn’t make it, I felt badly. So I re-arranged the cottage. I asked L’il Sis if she could go to the party with me and she had to work.

Then I asked Crazy D. He agreed to go — which was great since, the last time we went to a party of theirs, he regaled everyone with hilarious tales of his life and death adventures. One thing I’ll say about Crazy D, he’s an excellent party guest. In fact, if times get tough in television, he should hire himself out as a Professional Guest and Raconteur.

The week of the party arrived. Knowing how scatterbrained or sometimes forgetful Crazy D can be, I reminded him several times. Okay, I nagged…just a tad. But everything was a go. We were going and he would drive since he knows their area much better than I do. And he has GPS that he actually knows how to use.

Today I got an email. “Have to work on Saturday. Can’t go to party. Sorry.”

Really? You have to be kidding me. I would have replied immediately but decided, if I said nothing, he’d get the message quicker that I’m none-too-pleased. The silence would be deafening.

Never ignore your gut or your mother’s intuition. It doesn’t lie. I knew this would happen.

Normally it wouldn’t bother me. But it’s a long drive in an area I’m not familiar with and if I drive myself, I can’t drink. And it’s nicer to have company. And he promised!! But it is work related. And there is comfort knowing that, since it is also his girlfriend’s birthday, she too will be adversely affected. Misery loves company and all that.

I ranted to Gill via email and her response was: “What? He lives at your place for free and he can’t do this? I’d be happy to step in and drive you but sadly, I’m here in England.” Good for her — she’s being supportive, empathetic, willing to step up to the plate…all knowing she’s safely able to be the ‘good child’ from across the pond. Good-times kids, the lot of them!

I’m sure I’ll figure something out. In the meantime, about that black sealant Crazy D has promised to put on the driveway to fill the cracks? I might just have to put some Crazy Glue in it so his shoes will stick to it…Mess with a mother, huh? Nope. I would never have done something that passive-aggressive when the kids were young, but now, they’re old enough to fend for themselves!

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