My weekend was spent hosting my 2 nieces. We had a sleepover...as they called it. It was my older sis's anniversary & she went away for the weekend. We had great girly fun...painting nails every color under the rainbow, doing hair & makeup, trying on every shoe in my closet. Every hour...on the hour...they'd look at me with the...what stupendous thing are we going to do now?...look.

Being a good hostess to kids is so different from being a good hostess to adults. At times it was like hosting a fun filled party & at other times it was like hosting foreign exchange students from an exotic faraway land.

Now before some of the parents out there get all condescending & judgemental on my ass (come on...you know you want to)...think about how you'd react to a 5 year old child, throwing a screaming, crying fit in your kitchen asking for OAK with her eggs. Keep in mind, that the child is not your child, you know & love her...but you may miss a few of the nuances that living with her day to day make apparent.

The whole...oak...thing had me thrown. Hubby was at the stove playing chef & I must have been playing harried waitress. The 5 year old screaming continued. I held out a plate to Hubby so that he could put eggs on a piece of toast...he started to put the eggs on the side of the toast (not a big deal...but the screaming made me tense)...I told him to put it ON THE TOAST...he must not have liked my tone...because he wapped my arm with the greasy spatula! WTF?...I had little time to react...but I clearly remember thinking that I was just going to go right ahead & spear him with the giant serving fork that I had in my hand. I saw myself do it, I saw the blood & heard him scream...but I'm actually a wuss...so instead of puncturing him with the fork...I wapped him right back with it...butter splashed all over the sleeve of his blue t-shirt. How fucking mature could we get?!

We finally figured out that the 5 year old wanted YOLK with her scrambled eggs...& by scrambled...she meant fried. Halleluia!