Prizeworthy

I am up and blogging at 4 a.m. because my mother wrote in that she was getting impatient for a post. A continent away, the Radish still holds sway. It has been holiday weekend here in the PRC, May 1 being Labor Day, the biggest date on the communist calendar. We had 3 days of glorious, pollution -free sun. By pollution-free I mean not visible to the naked eye. The Princess was busy.

Highlights:

*Family work parties on the 1st and 3rd. The junk is out of the upper hall and into my bedroom, but still. The vista is much improved.
*Furniture shopping with Bea Long for her house. I’m all about helping others spend their money and Bea was on a mission. The Things were with Mr. U at the X Games across town – we saw them on TV on ESPN while we were eating our pulled pork sandwiches at Bubba’s!
*Dinner party for 17 on Saturday. Many thanks to ayi, husband & children for helping make it a great success. Or so Princess Ai Lin tells me. She was laughing pretty hard at the other table and I wasn’t even sitting at it. Something about male waxing and plucking, both recurring themes on this blog. Everyone well behaved, can you believe? I am still stunned.
*Reading Bridge of Sighs, by Richard Russo, on loan from Princess Ai Lin. I am not sure this is my favorite of his but am withholding judgment until finished. (Currently, Straight Man is my all-time fave).

In the meantime, here’s a heads up: Mother’s Day is one week away. To my male readers, if you have toddlers or teenagers, now is the time to step up to the plate. As I believe I said last year, this day is akin to Employee Appreciation Day. Spare no expense. Bankruptcy be damned. Cards from the children are a must, preferably handmade. To my female readers, regardless of the age of your children, now is the time to be explicit with your family as to your deepest desires, whether that be sleeping til 10 followed by breakfast in bed, a house free of children for the day, or a new Coach handbag.

Mr. Understanding himself has been forewarned. This year I have ultra high expectations. He must run offspring bickering interference. He must be the decision maker, the go to parent. (A tall order for a man who asked me where we kept the knives during our dinner party). I do not want to make the reservation for the restaurant, remind the children to put on sunscreen, and tell them to clean the litter boxes. I like my coffee with lots of frothy foam (they already know this). This year I deserve a prize and I am guessing that most of my readers do too. How’s about a really nice bowl?

Now I am frigging tired and think I will return to Mr. U’s side. Don’t fret, Radish. The Princess will call, she will post. Stay tuned.