Last night an amazing thing happened

I got home from work last night at 5:30 and I was in a bad mood. I’d just come from a frustrating meeting and the apartment was a disaster. Unpacked bags from our trip were still on the living room floor. The desk was a mess, shoes all over the entry, laundry spilling over the basket in the hallway, bathroom counter covered, clothes and towels on the bathroom floor and the kitchen…HORRIBLE! Garbage reeks, recycle needs taken out, dishes on the counter, the table, the coffee table, groceries I picked up at lunch unpacked on the counter. I come in the bedroom to great Mr. P and it’s also a mess. I go back in the kitchen to make my classic American spaghetti I have been craving. I am just standing in the kitchen and suddenly I just can’t take it anymore. I just wanted to sit on the floor and cry, I felt so overwhelmed and exhausted.

But then, this is the amazing part, I see half a bottle of wine on the messy table left over from San Francisco when we decided to have a wine, bread and cheese picnic at 10:30 in the morning (more on that adventure to come). I poured a nice big glass of wine and walked over to the bookshelf for my Betty Crocker Cookbook and then it happened…I transformed, for one night only, into Betty Crocker. I kid you not. I don’t know if it was the delicious Napa Valley wine or if it was the comforting worn cover of my book with Betty Crocker staring back at me with her encouraging smile, but I swear it happened.

For the next four hours I was an amazing person, not myself.

My bad mood lifted, I turned on my favorite country music CD, I started chopping onions, called my friend Sara to schedule a Friday lunch date. I got my sauce simmering away cheerfully on the stove and then I started laundry, I unpacked bags, put away clothes, took out garbage and recycling. I cleared off the desk, and the couch and the coffee table. I cleaned the kitchen, made broccoli and spaghetti noodles. I even set the table with a real live table cloth! Something I haven’t done for months. Mr. P and I ate at the table our delicious spaghetti and broccoli. But it didn’t stop there. No, I did more laundry, cleaned the kitchen leaving it spotless. With the kitchen clean I moved into the bedroom where I put away all the clothes and bags, and folded laundry. Finally, I Clorox wiped the bathroom, put on pj’s and got into bed a very happy woman.

I explained to Mr. P not to expect this amazing display of domesticity to repeat itself on a frequent basis. But perhaps, if $12 bottles of Napa Valley wine just happened to land on my kitchen table it might help his chances. I’m just saying…

Then I promptly feel asleep.

Mrs. P