Just Tell Me What To Do

I don't like being in charge.

I like being told what to do. Give me a task, and I'll do it, but make me delegate, and I freeze.

Saturday we had our annual Daddy/Daughter date for Activity Days. I love Activity Days. I have some really fun girls, and they are all very pleasant and easy to please, which makes my job even more fun. But this date night was a lot of stress for me. The girls and I had been planning this for a few months, and we had prepared a lot of fun ideas, so I really didn't have too much to worry about. But still, I was in charge, so if it went down in flames, I was to blame.

Luckily we had very few mishaps. The pizza dough got a little gooey while sitting out, which made it hard to get off the plate and onto the cookie sheet to cook, but it was fine. The church was disgustingly dirty when we arrived, so we spent a good portion of our setting up time cleaning up other people's messes. The drawer that normally holds all the nice flatware was mysteriously empty, so we had to resort to plastic forks. The oven had some sort of overflow problem prior to our using it, so upon preheating it, we filled the church with smoke.

Somehow it all came together at just the right time.

The girls taught the dads the Hoedown Throwdown, which was hilarious, and the dads were all very good sports about it. We dressed them up in cowboy attire and took their pictures, and then played pin the hat on the cowgirl. After eating our individual pizzas and salad, we had cowboy cupcakes, and visited for a while. The dads helped clean up the tables and chairs, and the women folk, without whom I couldn't have done this, cleaned up the kitchen. Don't worry, we left it cleaner than we found it, which wasn't hard to do!

I heard good things from the dads and the moms yesterday at church, it seems everyone had a good time.

I'm just glad it's over.

Whew.