Help me in welcoming author Holly Bush to the blog today! Holly is the author of Train Station Bride a new historical romance novel. (Look for my review tomorrow!)
Payback’s a . . . .
My oldest daughter, and mother to my two perfect grandsons, one a five-year-old entering Kindergarten in the fall, called me last night in a bit of a panic to ask me what a benefit auction was. I said something stupid like it’s an auction to benefit something which she did not find funny at all. I told her there are all kinds of auctions like silent ones and Chinese and ones with an auctioneer. She asked if I’d ever worked or helped with one over the years. I said yes that I had been involved in auctions over the years mostly for whatever organization I was involved with at the time and asked her why she asked. In a panic I could sense over the phone, she started telling a story that made me laugh and again she did not find it funny at all.
“I got an email from Parker’s principal that they were looking for volunteers to work on the 35th Annual BBQ and Auction that benefits his school. I emailed back right away and said I would be happy to. I thought I’d be selling lemonade or setting up tables but I just talked to the principal and I’m the new Chairwoman of the Auction. Do you know what I’m supposed to do? You’ve got to help me!”
“Do I know what you’re supposed to do? I might have some experience since I coached your soccer team when you were eight, sold poinsettias and wrapping paper for fifteen years over the course of you and your sister’s grade school years, served on the Building Committee at your school and volunteered at the Salvation Army. Maybe I learned during the seven thousand years that your sister played competitive softball and I schlepped hot dogs and raised money for uniforms and trophies and arranged the annual dinners. Yes I know what to do and you will too once you are done being the Chairwoman of the Auction.”
“I forgot about all that stuff,” she said. “You ran the Uniform Exchange at school too.”
“Yes. I did and am glad I did it and you will be too in twenty years or so.”
“My life is virtually over till the youngest is out of college.”
“It was over when you had sex,” I said gently. “There’s no turning back. There are no do-overs with childbirth.”
We hung up and I settled down to my computer with a smile on my face hoping to finish writing a historical romance novel I’d started back when my daughter was about two years of age. Ah . . . the virtue of payback!