Nolan, on the other hand, was not just a Boy Scout, he holds the highest honor that the little kerchiefed fellows bestow upon their brethren... the "Eagle Scout." The motto of the Boy Scouts of America is ... "be prepared." Nolan is very good at that. He has, on more than one occasion in our marriage, had the *ahem* materials that we needed to get the job done. I won't elaborate. What happens in a car in an abandoned parking lot, stays... Hmmm. Well. Yes. Anyway... he always tells me to be prepared.
Today, I was hopelessly unprepared. Our pastor's wife (a friend) came to the house to hand deliver a birthday party invitation. (Grrrr. Different Story for another day - I'm ranting about something ELSE right now). I'm in my jammies at 3:00 p.m. In my defense, today I cleaned the master bedroom and vacuumed, did the ENTIRE ironing pile, washed, dried and folded 8 (count 'em) EIGHT loads of laundry (I was depressed this week - don't judge me) so hadn't seen the need to shower yet, but I felt a little like a troll in the wake of her "fixed-ness" and perfume.
This would be the appropriate time during the rant to make a resolution to always be prepared for people to drop by... to at least be presentable for visitors to the door.
Who am I kidding? Not gonna happen. I don't even WANT to take a shower right now. Good thing I'm not a celebrity or royalty of some sort, I'd embarrass myself and my family a LOT.
So, in short, I'm not "prepared." Never will be. It's all because I wasn't a scout. Or a joiner. Or because I didn't care for the company of other children. Or a combination therof. Hmmm. Think I'll have some tea and read a little. Take that. My life is wonderful. Perhaps a little unkempt, but wonderful nonetheless.