Aloha – I have often felt that I am one of the less important characters in a Dr. Seuss adventure. This realization occurred a few years ago when my youngest daughter (upon which Debbie Ryder’s character is based) joined a Polynesian choir. I thought it ironic that my blond, blue-eyed daughter was in a Polynesian choir, but she was having fun so that was enough.
One night she called and asked for a favor. The choir was doing a fund raiser by cooking what I’ll refer to as Polynesian bento box lunches. They needed some places with kitchens to cook and prepare the food. Could a few of them use our kitchen that night? I said, “Okay.”
Around 10pm the doorbell rang and I answered to three Hawaiians. I welcomed them in as they moved past me to the kitchen. So far so good. Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang again and four Tongans entered the house quickly joining their Hawaiian friends. The door had hardly closed when again the doorbell rang and three Samoans joined the party barely saying hello. About this time my daughter arrived with a few more Tongan friends and I retreated to my office. An hour later 45 Polynesians and my daughter were singing, preparing food, and dancing across the house. My daughter later explained that all the other kitchen arrangements had fallen through. I was not surprised.
Years earlier, my daughter asked if she could have a few friends over for a nerf gun war. That had wound up being 28 high schoolers.
So I was not surprised when my daughter called Saturday, while my wife and I were on our way to a symphony and asked if some of her new in-laws could have Easter Dinner at our house as their apartment was too small. She promised that she and her husband would do all the cooking. My wife and I sighed… Sure.
Easter lunch at our home had my in-law counter parts, their children and several of their grandchildren running through in and out of our house. My wife managed a second Easter Egg hunt, as we had done one with our own family the week before. They didn’t hold still long enough for me to get a count… 10? 15? 20? a hundred? I’m not sure. Nonetheless, much like the Polynesian event, and The Cat in the Hat, when all was done, the house was clean and my wife and I sat down exhausted, but wondering when the next time will be :o) Doc