Ani is having a long week. As she expressed to me, It just doesn't seem fair that Eliza was actually sick and she is out doing everything, and I haven't been sick at all, but I couldn't do anything while she was sick and now I still can't do anything! I hear that. And it may turn out that this girl has incredible immunity. But we are doing what we think is the right thing and hanging in there for the window of contagion (this phrase has grown on me. I may have to draw a window of contagion).
So while Eliza was at homeschool coop yesterday, Ani had a tea party. I keep thinking it's time to pass on the tea things, and then a major shindig happens right here in my living room and I see that no, it's not quite time...
|Trixie wondering if she is invited?|
|Everyone is so fancy!|
Last night I was slipped a note. It was an invitation that read:
You are invited to a Fizz Party.
After breakfast around 10-ish.
Please dress up as if going to a real tea party with someone important because we are important. See you at the Fizz Party. I love you a lot.
As it turned out, our other poxy-hopeful friends were over today for a while and I happily joined the "fizz party" - they served "fizzy juice" (Emergen-C), apple cider and popovers with apple butter. It was delightful. We all donned our fancy clothes and jewels and sipped our cider through cinnamon sticks and listened to jazz music (the request was for Swan Lake, but I couldn't find it at the moment and settled for Miles Davis).
Everyone was quite polite, sipping their drinks and downing the popovers, and sharing their eyebrow wiggling techniques. Isn't that what usually happens at tea parties?
And then, after we cleared away the dishes, there was dancing. Real tea party dancing. So lovely.
This wasn't such a bad trade-off for missing choir today (Eliza went, but the rest were resting in their Windows. Of contagion.). Just a few more days to go...