About three weeks ago I hosted “Girls Weeked” for three of my best friends. Now, before you correct me on spelling “weeked” wrong, I want to assure you I spelled it correctly. You see, the very first year we kicked off our annual girls weekend happened to be a special weekend where one of my best friends, Joanna, was getting engaged. Clearly, as her best friends, we became great deceivers and lied to her the entire weekend until the actual proposal, which was so much fun, yet incredibly hard. Anyway, in my excitement the night before she was to become betrothed, I felt the need to bake us a cake to kick off the weekend. I’m incredibly classy, to say the least, so I baked us none other than a funfetti cake. Fist pump for funfetti, y’all. You know you love it, too. Of course, baking and decorating go hand in hand, so in my attempt at decorating, I wrote “Girls Weeked 2006″ and excitedly presented it to the girls when all was said and done. I was SO proud of myself! They nearly all died of hyperventilating right there on the spot when they realized I spelled it completely wrong. I tend to do that when I get excited about such things. From then on, Girls Weeked stuck.
That story is completely irrelevant to the post, but it was fun to re-live.
We actually missed a few years of intentionally planning our girls weekends, but that’s what happens when weddings and babies and moving across the country takes over!
So, needless to say, we were all a tad excited to be together again, and in our home city. Originally we had all planned to attend our ten year reunion together, but when all was said and done, we ended up not going. Don’t hate us. We had our own, and albeit, more exciting reunion. However, since I knew I’d be hosting them this time, my apartment needed a little tidying. Ironically, the week before they came I got into this purging mode and nearly threw or gave away every belonging I owned, and it felt good. That really helped when it came to cleaning. But, having a full time job and something social nearly every evening also put me in a bind, which means I found myself dusting, and um, vacuuming a little after midnight one night.
I’m pretty sure I scrubbed my entire bathroom as well.
BUT I WAS ON A ROLL. You know when you get in those modes and you feel invincible? That’s how I felt. Even my roommate thought I was crazy, but man, our apartment has never looked better.
However, as I was being crazy lady and on my rampage, I thought to myself, I’m never more like my mother than when I’m cleaning at midnight.
It’s true. My mother is the QUEEN of late night shenanigans. Vacuuming. Packing. Cleaning. You name it, she’s most likely been found practicing her craft at midnight. Although it’s not become a true habit of mine yet (we won’t discuss waiting until the last minute to pack), I definitely inherited the get it done at midnight trait from her.
We’ve all experienced something like that when we’re in the middle of accomplishing something and we immediately think of who we’re mimicking, which means, of course, I want to hear yours.
I’m never more like my daughter than when…
I’m never more like my mother than when…
I’m never more like my husband than when…
I’m never more like my grandma than when…
I’m never more like my teacher than when…
You get the point. This could be so funny. Or maybe not. But it’s worth a shot.
Oh, and for the record, the one thing I did NOT do for my friends this year was bake them a misspelled cake. But, to make up for my lack of baking skills, I took them to Tiny Boxwood’s and bought them a cookie. I’m certain they’ve never loved me more. And lest you think that’s lame, don’t judge until you’ve had their cookies. They’re change your life good.
And because we like pictures, here I am with my girls. You might be interested to know that I’ve known these girls since the womb. They’re truly the sister I never had. Only the Lord could weave such a sweet, strong friendship together. Only He could sustain that. I don’t take it for granted and am truly forever grateful!