the irish invasion

michael just reminded me of the strangest thing that happened last night. we were in the throes of bed/dinner time. oddly enough, i was handling dinner and michael was handling bed for bridget. neither scenario was going well since we weren't in our areas of expertise. bridget was screaming bloody murder one sentence into "the going to bed book" (because she has become way too attached to me at bedtime) and the rice was boiling over on the stove. and then there was a knock on the door. i think that this is maybe the 6th knock on the door ever. so i open it half-expecting to be attacked (yes, these are the thoughts that run through my paranoid brain) by a north end heroin addict, only to be greeted by an older couple from ireland. not elderly, just older and they are looking for margaret. my mother? now i'm even more afraid than i was of the attack. my mother will be thrilled when she hears about the screaming baby and seemingly out-of-control pot on the stove and my usual cooking mess in the general kitchen area. despite all this, i do the proper irish thing and offer them tea. which i have - phew! they say no - phew! then i ask them if they've eaten dinner. they have. what about coffee and dessert? can i take you out for coffee and dessert? key word - OUT? no, they are all set. they just wanted to come by and say hello. they are the best friends of my mother's cousin. they were very nice but i can't imagine what they were thinking. they were in the hallway - too scared to come in - for 5 minutes tops. oy! isn't that strange?

so anyway, despite the early game time for the sox today, it was a total waste of time. i'm just happy i didn't dress bridget in her little dress for the massacre.