there will be cakes & ale

A weekend of cakes & ale, in fact.

We went on a date. A real date. A put-on-the-Oprah-Bra date. A neither-mommy-has-clothes-with-snot-or-oatmeal-smeared-on-us date. It was great!

Scully was plotting something secretly. Babysitters would be needed Sunday afternoon. I promised not to snoop. I could not help but notice that the local Meatloaf Festival was set for the same time she had specified. She wouldn't. She wouldn't. Not even as a joke, right?

Instead, I was greeted by this sweet lyric Sunday morning.

"What would I do if you refuse to go with me today? Make me a willow cabin at your gate, And call upon my soul within the house; Write loyal cantons of contemned love, And sing them loud even in the dead of night; Halloo your name to the reverberate hills, And make the babbling gossip of the air, Cry out "FRUITFEMME!" O, You should not rest, Between the elements of air and earth, But you should pity me!"

We were going to twelfth night! One of my favorites. Right up there with Much Ado about Nothing and Measure for Measure. Perfect! Just perfect! Here is the text message version of the play for anyone who missed this in 12th grade english.




Our good friends came over about one. Khubz woke up about 1:15 and was shy, sleepy, snuggling into me. One of those times where she is up from her nap but not awake enough to swallow her own saliva so it just puddles against your shoulder where she's resting her head. She kept up the sleepy-time routine until one of our friends uttered the word "pizza."

" 'izza? Mas. Mas. P'ease"

And then it was, "oh, are you two still here?" she looked back at me & scully. Sitting at the table our friends and Khubz all sat around Khubz's glorious plate, full of pizza. "Hey, I've got people over, you know? Friends? Okay? Bye, Mommies. Bye." That was it. She didn't look back.

Scully and I drove to campus, got our tickets and sat in the courtyard until the theatre opened. It was still sunny, fairly windy and there was one more surprise on the way. What is it? "You'll see." When? "Act III."

Act III and out comes Olivia. The coveted beauty of the play. It is one of Scully's students--a friend of ours! She walks on stage. She is a tall, voluptuous latina. She is a gorgeous gordita and the stage is filled with people courting her in iambic pentameter. She comes out in a slip and stockings and lace and heels (the play was set in a New Orleans bordello, 1910) and Scully and I both gasp. "Take THAT Helena Bonham Carter!!" Stunning. She was stunning.

The whole play was well done. Feste was tremendous. We talked about the stage, the physical jokes, the accents, the gender play, the costumes. . . all the way home. We did not talk about poop, bedtime, laundry, dishes and the only time we mentioned schedules was to say we really should go on a date once a month. I'm planning the next one. (stay tuned for details of the mashed potato festival, currently in development)

When we got home we found a truly joyous Khubz. There had been no tears, no fits, no crying, no need for our friends to resort to gas. They played outside on the deck, ate a modest meal of pizza, cheerios, apples, some more pizza, animal crackers and leftover meatloaf after my entry for the festival was refused. There was playing, reading, snacking, giggling, eating of toes, a generous amount of diaper changes (the 2-movements a day girl decided to poop 3 times while we were gone,) a good amount of personal penguining. . . Our friends were tireless in Khubz's endless desire for repetition. While Scully & I were on our date, Khubz was having a date of her own--an equally delightful time and she didn't even have to get all the pinto beans out of her hair. The ultimate proof that she had a great time on her date? 7 o'clock bedtime. That was her idea. This means that Khubz had a really, really great time.

"Ya Khubz, are you ready to take a bath?" She makes the sign for sleep. Walks over to the babygate at the stairs. "Ya?" She asks. Um, sure. We take an abbreviated bath (she really did still have pinto beans in her hair) read through Wake Up, Night only once and she's pointing at her crib. For real. The teeth have been brushed, the pinto beans were largely removed, clean diaper. Um, sure. Okay. We kiss the goddess goodnight and she lays down in her crib. And she's out. For the night.

As for me and Scully? We settle in for an evening with Twelfth Night on VHS, because, in truth, I do have a real thing for Helena Bohnam Carter. And I just love that play.