"You know," Kathy said, "I wish I could just handle it like Diane. She never seems to get ruffled by this stuff. What would Diane say?"
A few years ago, when B was turning 6, we had a birthday party at our house, which involved renting a pony. This was much less expensive than we thought, and really, what could make a better birthday party than having pony rides in your tiny suburban backyard? NOTHING. We were so excited, we invited Diane to the party, even though she was not a first grader (she was, and is, an adult). She planned to take the train in from New York City, and either Kathy or I would drive down and pick her up before the party.
Only it started raining, and the pony arrived and made a mess of the backyard, and everyone was clamoring for rides anyway so we had to make garbage bag rain ponchos for 10 six year old kids. And we completely forgot about poor Diane at the train station. She tried calling Kathy's cell phone, but who picks up their phone when there is a pony crapping in the rain in your back yard? She didn't have our address, so she couldn't just take a cab. She was just stuck at the train station.
(not our train station, but just try to imagine)