As I was thinking about what to write for today, I realized that I have a real daily life issue to write about (yay!). I feel so much better, since I never did do my Friday post even on Sunday. (boo!)
It goes like this:
Him: So what are we doing on Easter Sunday?
Me: I don’t know.
Him: Well, step-spawn #2 just texted me and he wanted to know what we were doing.
(Note: Step-spawn #2 is the one of the five sons who is now married and a father to a darling, and I mean DARLING, 2-year-old little girl – since her mom calls her “Nugget” I guess for the purposes of this blog, that’s what it’ll be.)
Me: Well, I have Nugget’s Easter basket, so I’m fine with just stopping by and delivering it that morning . . .
(I say this, hoping this will end the discussion entirely)
I guess it won’t end it.
Here’s the thing – I’m an INFJ/INFP. That’s Meyers-Briggs speak for I’m an introvert. Well, that’s what the I stands for anyway. The rest is not important for this discussion.
I never want to go to parties or family gatherings. I don’t even like them if I’m in the kitchen busy doing stuff and, therefore, not having to be social. I particularly don’t like them if they’re for me. My girlfriends had to really push for me to have a 40th party and I flatly said no to a 50th party. I don’t drink particularly, so I can’t just get a nice buzz on and say stupid stuff and somehow survive that way. I’m not that good at small talk.
It’s not that I don’t like people. No, really. I generally do, except for the incredibly stupid people. But I don’t know that many of them, so that’s just not relevant.
My husband (of course) likes these sorts of things – family gatherings more than parties. I don’t think he’s that much more extroverted than I am, but he’s just enough that he comes off like a raging party animal compared to me. But c’mon, that’s not saying much.
And yet we abide in our household by the unwritten rule that as the woman, I am supposed to be the arbiter of all things social. When I so do not want to be this. At all. As far as I’m concerned, I’ll just show up when commanded and with appropriate gift in hand, if required. Or I will prepare table and food and all that stuff if commanded.
I mean, don’t make me figure all this out on top of getting a gift and card, wrapping it, wearing the right clothes, and not making a damn fool out of myself and yet being somewhat charming (as charming as I know how to be which isn’t all that much.)
It would be easier if I drank.
We still haven’t figured out Easter yet and I’m just hoping that the longer we put off deciding to do anything more than a drive-by delivery of said basket to the Nugget, that we’ll just be way out of time to put together a food thing and invite family and all that crap. Easter isn’t that big of a holiday anyway (at least not in my heathen book.)
But then there’s Mother’s Day and then Father’s Day and then more birthdays (a few significant ones) and goodness’ knows what else comes up before Thanksgiving and Christmas.
It would be better if I drank.