Perverse Minds, Pizza Chicken, and Protestant Nuns

Funny how I can sit down by myself at a table in the commons room and be surrounded by six or more people within a few minutes. A History exam loomed in the near future, so I curled up in a chair to study. Within 30 minutes, Danielle, Kami, Chase, Daniel, and Michael sat at the table with me. Whoever had food donated to the Communal Lunch. The three guys (a.k.a. The Perverse Minds) sat across from me laughing at something (I know not what).

"Sorry," Chase laughed. "I get perverse when I'm tired."

"You must be tired all the time," I commented from behind my History book.

"Ouch!" Chase winced.

"How come you never react like that when I'm mean to you?" Danielle asked.

"Because when you're mean, it's just like 'Oh, it's only Danielle.' When she's mean it hurts."

"Sorry, Chase," I apologized. "I grew up with an older brother who made me learn to react with quick come-backs because of his dry humor. But that's no excuse. Forgive me?"

"Sure." Twisted as his mind may be, Chase is very sweet and forgiving... or crazy. How many guys keep asking a girl out after she has bitten his head off?

Last class period was the delightful little History mid-term exam. Half of the exam required a full-blown hand-written essay on the events leading up to World War 1 and the United States' involvement. Russia declared war on Austria-Hungary -- Germany declared war on France -- Britain declared war on Germany -- Italy left the Triple Alliance and was replaced by the Ottoman Empire which was comprised of modern-day Turkey, Syria, Iran, and Iraq -- Germany had the most casualties -- What was the significance of the Treaty of Versailles? Yadda yadda. I left the classroom with a headache.

My "sister"Amanda was on my mind all day, so I called her up after class and asked her if there was some way I could help around the house (she's expecting baby #4).

"Oh yes, please come! I'm about ready to strangle my children. It's been one of those days."

"Oh my, I'd better come and save the kids!" I laughed.

Without fail, I'm always greeted by a chorus of little voices as soon as I pull into the driveway: "Carey! Carey!" Three little girls and Dixie the dog run up to my car door. Though I missed laundry-folding, I made it just in time to help ice/eat pumpkin cookies and drink Diet Dr. Pepper (sweet nectar of life) that Amanda had bought for me.

"Know what you're having for dinner?" I asked from beside an icing-covered three-year-old.

"Something with chicken... have any suggestions?"

I rummaged around in her pantry. Tomato paste... oregano... garlic seasoning salt... bread crumbs...

"Got any potatoes?"

"Yeah, right here."

I rolled up my sleeves. Dinner would be "Pizza Chicken" (the girls liked the sound of that), garlic scalloped potatoes, and corn-on-the-cob. I concocted a sauce for the chicken, Amanda sliced potatoes, Nivelle (age 5) and Erin (age 3) were put to work sprinkling cheese, and Aleeza (20 months) got into everything.

Dinner was just about done when I scampered back home to eat a hamloaf my grandma made and see Mom off before she left to babysit my other "niece" Emma. Erin and Nivelle each grabbed a leg and pleaded with me not to leave.

"Can you pleeeeease stay and eat dinner with us? Can you spend the night sometime?" I love being Aunt Carey.

It's funny when I think about it, but I told my mom once as a very serious thirteen-year-old that I'd be a spinster aunt and spoil all my friends' children. I laughingly reminded her of this prophecy the other day. Indeed, I am Aunt Carey to my friends' children. However, I prefer the term "Protestant nun (until further notice)" as opposed to "spinster."

*photo: Aleeza (L) and Erin (R) coloring before dinner