24 dirty little feet

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About one hour ago I watched 24 reasonably clean feet walk off my porch. They were attached to the legs of twelve 11 year old girls. They were invited afterschool for 6 &1/2 hours of movies & hanging out. Mostly, they jabbered & ate. Yammered & ate. Squawked & ate. I even recall a little shrieking. There were some movies playing, the ones they democratically voted for (your Grandfather would be quite proud, Miss B) but they weren't really watched. Plenty of apples, cheese, crackers, grapes, chips, & juice covered the table, the tablecloth, the floor, corners of mouths, etc. In fact, when we returned from the outdoor yammering, running & shrieking, an invasion of ants some fifty strong had found spilled juice on the new kitchen floor. The cats were outraged, and pointed out the infidels most indignantly. I do prefer them to mice, but still, they had to go.

In between movies there was a nice game of kickball, which is where the feet got dirty. Most of the shoes came off, deliberately, not during a over-zealous kick, and then the feet ran round the dusty bases. I announced that those dirty feet would not be coming back into my house. And like the dutiful little students they had been (for the previous 5 years), the feet were willingly prepared to be washed. Some looked for the garden hose. Since it was a 70 degree day, that was not an unreasonable idea. However, since it was first and foremost the last day of March in Upstate New York, no garden hose in it's right mind would be caught dead hanging off a faucet out of doors! So then the feet shuffled indoors. Two new bathtubs were filled with half the feet, and there was plenty of warm soapy water, giggling & splashing. Clean feet passed inspections and were allowed to move ahead. Pineapple and ham pizzas were delivered and consumed (tasty - I stole a slice). Sour, fruity, squishy candies were passed around (two pounds of the stuff, I might add) and popcorn was popped, right on the stove, to the amazement of some. Finally, nine o'clock came round and parents arrived. The not-so-dirty little feet slipped back into their shoes, went down the steps, into cars, (six walked), and found their way home. Ahhh, I think I'll go soak my feet.



Kristy said:

My daughter turns 12 next month and she's envisioned a party much like you describe here, only including a sleep over! Yikes--I have about 5 weeks to work up some enthusiasm for the plan.

Carol said:

Pray for nice weather so you can air them out and protect your eardums from their incessant yammering. At least we don't have to hire clowns & ponies anymore!

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This page contains a single entry by Carol published on March 31, 2006 10:24 PM.

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