Our most excellent contractor asked a favor of us a few weeks ago: would we be willing to meet with some potential clients, who are carefully researching contractors and would like to meet some satisfied customers who'd had a lot of problems in the project? Sure!
Actually, I didn't think we had that many problems in our project, but that goes to show how good our contractor was.
He arrived promptly at 12:30, as per usual, and we gladly reunited and launched right into talking about....uh-oh, here comes Katrina. "MOMMY I HAVE A STINKIE!!!" Great.
Fortunately his potential clients weren't there yet, so I quickly dealt with said stinkie (she's been doing great, why did she do this?). I can't remember what set her off, but minutes later, Katrina launched into a tantrum and started to strip. She ran into the living room where we were trying to talk, wearing only shorts, and threw something. Great.
Despite the lack of interior decoration and the ancient furniture, the house can look OK if it's not too cluttered, but Katrina insisted on throwing couch pillows on the floor. I took a stance and said no pillows on the floor, which only furthered her tantrum, and the shorts almost came off too.
By now the clients had arrived and my first words were an apology about the noise. The clients were very understanding, and the lady said she had 5 grandsons and thought Katrina was adorable. Thanks to the lady, Katrina got out of her snit.
But happy mood only raised the noise level. Katrina and Julian started playing with a balloon we got this morning at Trader Joe's, and the play was constantly bordering fighting. Katrina screeched ear-piercing shrieks, making me run every time to see if she was in serious pain, having fun, or wanted her balloon back. It was incredibly difficult and annoying to hold a conversation.
Then Katrina and Julian went into the living room where our contractor and the husband client were trying to talk, and started a noisy game on the couch -- where they hardly ever play -- eventually driving the two men outside to try to talk. I made stabbing efforts at calming them down, but it would have taken a major investment of time, energy and embarrassment to make it happen. If I could have sent Julian to his room easily, the separation would have done it. But, of course, Julian doesn't do what I ask easily, it's a major ordeal.
We hid for a while on the front porch, with shrieks still coming from inside, but they gave up for good when Katrina joined us. They graciously accepted my apologies for the racket. Meantime, my head was about to explode from the screaming; Katrina had really ramped it up to make an impression -- and she did.
As soon as they left, I went into the office to send an urgent email, and a minute later Julian called out, "Katrina's in the front yard!" Oh brother, we don't have a front yard....the little stinker had put her sneakers on and was almost at the street, running after our contractor and his clients, who were standing on the sidewalk wrapping up before they got into their respective cars. And still shirtless. Good grief!
I hope we didn't scare off our contractor's potential clients.
Tonight there was a talk by an author whose new book is entitled "Curse of the Good Girl: Raising Authentic Girls with Courage and Confidence." Curse of the Good Girl? We should be so cursed!