…you get called out. The call-out may come in a sweet, pink tone.
Last week my daughters heard of an event called, “Pinkalicious Pastries and Punch Party” which they circled in pink on the fridge calendar.
“Mom. I really wanna go to this”, said my oldest girl.
“Ok. Let’s do it” and I set it on my gmail. The next week my phone died…the battery..the charging port..the screen..everything just stopped. Didn’t have a working phone for a few days while the replacement was ordered.
That day at work — was awful. Traffic that day — was horrible. That day — we slugged through an hour of confusing homework. That day — I wasn’t feeling awesome. Finally, while stirring sauce on the stove at what I thought was the end of that day…my girls walk into the kitchen. They’re head to toe in pink.
“It’s Pinkalicious night”, my youngest girl said. Her voice was excited and happy.
Pause. Think. Stop stirring. Look at clock. Look at fridge. Inwardly groan.
They circled it in pink for crying outloud. So…I better do it.
Even though all I really wanted was to change into cozy pants. I better do it even though I didn’t feel like doing another blasted thing especially getting into the car again.
Turned off the sauce. Woke up deep-sleeping-third-shift-Dad. Mentioned dinner would be late, way late, like maybe he and boy should just get Subway late. We had to get back home so boy wouldn’t be left alone so Dad could leave for work on time.
(It seemed impossible). A lot of this third-shift stuff feels impossible.
But we jumped into the car. We made it on time and made good on a date for these two who dressed themselves in all the pink they could find:
Sometimes a commitment becomes a huge hassle. Sometimes things unravel on the day you really need them to stay wound tightly together. Sometimes you drop everything and make it to the ‘Pinkalicious Party’ because you promised.