When I got home last night, Mike was doing something on his computer. I wanted to go to Target to pick up some ingredients for dinner, and suggested we ride our bikes there, quickly, before it got dark.
We went down to the garage, and realized our bike tires were flat, so thusly inflated them. I think we got about halfway to Target before we both vetoed the idea and came back around to the house. It was coooold and getting dark.
So, instead, we got in Mike’s car, and drove to Costco. He dropped me off in the front to run into pick up a roasted chicken and got in line for the gas station. (Seriously, always busy.) While I was exiting Costco, I noticed my aunt was calling me, but I didn’t answer, because she often errantly calls me. I checked my phone once I sat down in the car, and my mom had called me two times and left two voicemails and my aunt had called.
In my head, multiple calls and multiple voicemail=someone is dead or something is burning.
I called them back right away.
“Oh hii! How are you? We’re in Ramona!”
(My parents live in OC)
They were in Ramona, visiting some people my grandma knew from when they lived in France when my mom was a kid.
Long story short: bbq chicken enchiladas for 2+ leftovers turned into bbq chicken enchiladas for 7. But it was really nice! There was wine and margaritas, crackers, pie, chatter, coffee. It wasn’t quite what I had planned for the evening (making cookies), but a very pleasant evening overall, after I got past the harried OMG COOKING GO GO GO DROP GLASSES GO!