As I mentioned yesterday, aside from one event, Easter went off almost ridiculously smoothly.
Thus, the event.
I had the baguette all cut and olive oil drizzled on the baking sheet waiting to go in the oven and was chopping onions for the shrimp when I heard Giotto do his am about to throw up meow. TS hears this and recognizes it as snack time (ugh, Till) so we both leave the kitchen to go find where the cat has horked. As I'm trying to push her back out of the way, am peering around the cat on the stairs because I don't see anything... on the rug. When I look closer, I see that along the side of my shoe and down the next step to INSIDE MY PURSE is a stream of half digested cat food.
After recovering from the loss of peripheral vision, I realized this was actually sort of preferable as the leather is relatively easy to wipe off and the patent shoe rinsed off easily under the faucet. Had to spend a couple minutes scrubbing the lining of my purse where things dripped (ew) but was doing fine managing the anxiety about the day. Then I walk back into the kitchen and see my dog with bulging cheeks and several noticeable absences from the baguette filled cookie sheet.
And then, all was lost. Rather than try and reclaim my bread, I just dragged her leash over to her crate and shut her in for awhile while I sorted out just how much she had gotten to. Only took a couple rounds so still plenty left for the appetizers.
But damn if I wasn't yearning for some Xanax while I was gripping the sides of the counter at 3:35 in flour covered yoga pants trying to stave off a panic attack before the guests arrived at 4 because it's all ruined(!!!) Nothing can go right for the rest of the day! (woe)(wail)(rend garments spatula dramatically)