The Barbie-Q

I thought if I waited a few days, then maybe it wouldn't seem like it was so bad.

But then someone called it a white trash BBQ. And told me she would rather go to Chuck-A-Rama than another BBQ at our house. (And she hates Chuck-A-Rama.)

So I guess it really was that bad.

(Or good, depending who you ask.)

. . . . .

Steve had just got back from four days at Girls Camp. I was tired from Steve being gone for four days. And there were eight kids at our house who were getting hungry.

I actually wanted to take the kids to a buffet. I didn't want to hear any more complaints from my kids about what I was cooking. And I wanted the kids to eat and eat and eat until they were full.

But Steve needed to set the tent up and let it dry out. And he was anxious to spend some time in the yard. He suggested we pull out the grill and have a barbecue. (Mistake #1 Don't have a BBQ unless you have something decent to grill.) Steve's sister was in town with her family, so we called and invited them to come over and join us. (Mistake #2 Don't invite people over for a BBQ unless you have something decent to grill AND a decent place for them to sit.)

We needed more buns and chips, so I took the older girls with me to Rancho Market. I walked in and saw cucumbers and tomatoes on sale and decided we should probably be eating Mexican hotdogs for dinner. Sadly, Rancho Market only sells Western Family buns. We grabbed them anyway and bought Jarritos Mexican Sodas to make up for it.

On the way home, we stopped by our neighbor's house and invited him to join us. (Mistake #3 Don't invite MORE people over for a BBQ when you don't have something decent to grill or a decent place for them to sit.) He had just eaten dinner but said he would come by a little later to visit.

Looks pleasant enough, right?

Not once you get close.

Now picture Steve's pile of stuff from Girls Camp. Mexican music blaring from the apartments behind us. Camp chairs strewn about the driveway. A small lifetime table holding watermelon, chips, Jarritos, and hotdog fixings. Our messy garage. Kids playing in the dirt pile. Stepping on sticker weeds.

And then our neighbor walked in the backyard. With more guests. We have two neighbors hosting Raptors baseball players this season, and Rachel and Lucy have been dying to meet them. Perfect timing.

The two baseball players signed hats, baseballs, casts, pieces of papers. We sat in camp chairs and made small talk. Steve shamefully hid by the grill. Embarrassed to admit that he owned a restaurant. Tyler, the conversationalist, stepped up to the plate. The food was finally ready. (Maybe Steve thought if he was slow enough, they would give up and leave.)

The food was gross. There was barely enough to go around. At one point, I asked if they had enough to eat. They said they did. Steve laughed, "What were you going to do if they said they were still hungry? What were you going to serve them next?" Good point. (I would have sent them to Sonora Grill.)

The kids opened up the bag of gigantic marshmallows. Did I mention the kids were filthy?

Those gigantic marshmallows are ridiculous. They take forever to cook. Especially if you are roasting them over a propane grill.

Pretty sure the kids didn't notice anything was wrong. They were having a great time, especially when they were playing baseball with the baseball players.

The music from beyond the fence stopped and we concluded with a quick photo, releasing the baseball players from our pitiful barbecue. They were good sports and didn't even act too put out. I'm sure it's exactly how they wanted to spend one of their few free evenings before the season started tonight. They will play over seventy games over the next three months!

We look forward to cheering them on at their home games at Lindquist Field. Especially if they pull off more wins like tonight (@Idaho Falls, 20-0).

We probably ought to try to redeem ourselves and invite them over to a more respectable dinner in the future. Or just send them to Sonora Grill.


Rebecca said...

Don't worry about it:) But reading this definitely makes me want to make enough food for the party:)

Jenny said...

My parents host father's day every year. Since it was raining they decided to move it indoors. Into the giant shed. Full of dead animals, antlers, hanging geese, the smell of dirt and tanned leather, home to the 4-wheelers and other ORVs, etc.

My uncle came in sprinkler boots.

The food was good though, so there's that.

Joanie said...

I don't follow baseball or anything but OUCH. They creamed us!

Don't you wish you were a kid again and could have fun living in ignorance? But I'm sure the baseball guys had a good time with the company, if not the food, and that's what matters.

Ryanne said...

OK, that sounds awesome ;) And I think you guys were probably fun enough to pull it off.

AngelaW said...

OK, I would never have labeled it the white trash BBQ if you hadn't said it first. And I loved it. OK, not really the food, but I don't really ever like BBQ food, but I was happy to be there with you all! I did enjoy watching the kids have so much fun. I didn't enjoy the stinky dirty smells on the way home. I did enjoy Sam sitting on the chair like an old man eating and drinking away. I also ejoyed watching Tyler hose them down in the backyard before we threw them in the bathtub.

Little Cherry Blossoms said...

Emily you crack me up. xo

Julie said...

ok...weird, Emily, but one of those baseball players happens to be one of my best friend's cousin! She lives here in St. Louis. Small world.