Celebrating non success

We've been busy the last couple weeks. Dave had a lot a lot (I meant to put it twice) to do for school while working his 30 hours/week at the hospital and I was real busy with Young Women's. Thursday was the day we would be done with it all, and we designated Thursday as our day to celebrate and just go do something and spend time together. After all, it would be Thursday and we would be done with our big long lists of things to do and stresses to get zits over-- wouldn't you celebrate? Would you celebrate even if the things you were stressing over and making lists for popped like those big, fat, bloody zits on your face? We did.

Non Success #1: Dave's last test in his conglomerate of school work/projects/presentations. He studied all the wrong material and thought he didn't do well and was super chip cheery that he wasted all that time studying everything that wasn't on the test. Gotta love it.

Non Success #2: A few weeks ago, I found out that the youth in our ward at church put on a Thanksgiving dinner for everyone 50 and older every year. It's a big tradition and a big to do . When I first found out, I sorta wanted to go TP the home of the crazy that started that tradition, and then complain to someone that a little more notice may have been a good thing. But, I decided to just let it play out as it would and roll with the punches.

There are 2 young women in our ward. Yes, count them: 1, 2. Lucky for us, there are lots more young men so they took on all the food with the exception of pies and salad. The responsibility of the young women boiled down to invites, decorations, salad, and pies. Definitely the good end of the stick.

I don't really know what I was expecting, but ever since Wednesday night and the absolute chaotic, unorganized, horribly executed, bloody disaster the dinner was, I shudder when I remember what it was like and immediately try to erase the memory from my brain. It was the kind of night where I was like, "Hm, ok. Here are the knives, BUT WHERE ARE THE GUNS???????" Horrendous. So much for rolling with the punches. Lesson learned.

Celebrate good times, c'mon! (sing it, you know you want to)

We did just that. First we got really creative. Then (is the suspense killing you?), we made the decision to splurge and.... went out to eat. And, I'll be darned, in spite of the geographical location of the state of Minnesota and the horrid accent found from the people residing within, there is some pretty darn good Mexican food! La Casita. Miles wouldn't have his chips without salsa. After his first bite his eyes got all big and he shuddered at the heat and then pointed to the salsa with gusto and absoluteness and ate it on every chip. Train them young, right?

Anyway, that's the story of the time we went and celebrated our non success.