--impromptu dinner party with horrible semi-home-made pizza on last Fri night with a highschool friend of the Diplomat, along with his lovely wife and three toddlers. Both school buddies reminisced on their mutual skinniness and inappropriate moustache
--fabulous brunch on Saturday with the consular officer who granted the Diplomat his first student visa 15 years ago in Chennai
--intense Easter brunch with FS friends and a big ol' chunk of lamb
--mad planning of a post-Flag Day bash
--several rounds of intensive FSI training which drove us all to an all-consuming happy hour on Tuesday where many unreasonable beverages were consumed by all
--more mad planning of a post-Flag Day bash, some of after 12 am
--few receptions by current and former diplomats on Wednesday, followed by even madder planning of a post-Flag Day bash and clearing up space in my fridge for a huge cake meant to celebrate the birthdays of those in my class whose birthdays fell during A-100 training
--Thursday: driving of said cake plus two more plus a screaming Son requesting some of that cake plus a fellow FSO to FSI, where all cakes are met with unbridled enthusiasm by a hungry and bored A-100 class; cutting of cakes and trying to reign in myself not to eat 36 slices. NO HAPPY HOUR! Run to Target at 9 pm to buy tent for impending camp trip. Rejoice at finding a toddler inflatable mattress fitted with Cars sleeping bag.
--Friday--FLAG DAY. Oh boy...turns out, I am going to...Dhaka! Yeah, very funny. The day ends with a bash, which goes off without a hitch, thanks to me and my fabulous co-chair of the Party Committee, MK. We are awesome, yada yada.
We are off camping tomorrow early morning. Next week should be much calmer and I will regale all of you with stories of Son in the wild along with the Diplomat who still hobbles around in an air boot and sad facial expression. Unless I decide to run off in the wild with Fat Cat. Which is doubtful since he is at least 16 lbs heavy and it will be more like a really slow walk off in the wild, during which time I will be apprehended by Son (asking for milk, mango, water, a new car, strawberries, go potty or look at his imaginary boo-boo, all in that order) and the Diplomat (who will only look at me mournfully and ask for the remote control).