Drama Is My Superpower

I decided to do paper invites for my daughter’s birthday party because finding people’s mailing address was easier than accosting them for emails. Plus, 1 person always claims the evite went into spam, and I WILL THWART HER EXCUSES FOR NOT RSVP-ING.

The invites took me 13 hours to make because the beautiful graphic ones I painstakingly designed without the help of Photoshop were either the wrong size or the wrong shape for EVERY PLACE THAT PRINTS THINGS.

I finally found a cute pre-made princess design with purple (N’s favorite color) and ordered invitations. I picked them up the next day only to realize the RSVP phone number was WRONG even though Scott and I both proofed the invitation twice each. I’m not sure which would be more annoying: the person who got multiple calls for his nonexistent princess party or that my friend of the spam-emails could claim she RSVP’d when I know she did NOT.

And then I ran into an address problem. Our school directory insisted that N’s friend lived 3-4 hours away in another state and commuted 5 days a week to go to our school. The family seems pretty NOT CRAZY so I decided to hand-deliver their invite at school and offhandedly ask about Maryland just in case.

My plan was foolproof except I didn’t know what type of car the mom drove, and I didn’t want to give her the invite in the lobby because the party was so small and people have FEELINGS. I kept hoping we would pull into the parking lot to pick up our kids at the same time. And then, one day, I see a car that is driven by a possible suspect.

I jump out of my car with joy, but the driver stays in. I can’t stand in the middle of the parking lot waiting to see if this possible-party-list-person is the actual-party-list-person when I’m really supposed to be going into school with all the other parents and getting my kids so I begin to walk very slowly towards the school door and also her car door. As I walk past the car, I crane my neck like I’m feigning whiplash, but I can’t get the right angle to see inside the car.  And I can’t just knock on the window because 1) I will scare the crap out of the driver and 2) what if it’s not the right mom and I have to explain why I’m taking the party invite OUT OF SOME MOM’S HAND.

I decide to go into the lobby and just watch out the door like James Bond. I realize that from the lobby I have a better line of sight into the car and I become more and more convinced that it’s the right mom. I get so psyched up that I dash out the door to keep her from coming inside without the invite. Except the minute I open the door all my confidence fades and I hurry back inside sure I was about to invite the kid who pulls my daughter’s pigtail out (it was just once but STILL).

Meanwhile, I look so suspicious sprinting in and out of the school that the head of the school runs over to me: What’s happening in the parking lot? Is everything okay? Does someone need help?


I don’t even know how to explain my creepy slow-walk-run-in-run-out-run-in-all-while-hiding-an-envelope behavior so I think: Maybe I should just invite her?

WHAT? My brain is trying to ruin my daughter’s party and then I see the car door open and the right mom steps out. I push past the head of the school and throw open the glass doors while shoving a white sweaty envelope in this unsuspecting mom’s hands and telling her: YOU’RE INVITED BUT DON’T TELL ANYONE.

I’m amazed she came to the party, too.

Alex Iwashyna

Alex Iwashyna went from a B.A. in philosophy to an M.D. to a SAHM, poet and writer by 30. She spends most of her writing time on LateEnough.com, a humor blog (except when it's serious) about her husband fighting zombies, awkward attempts at friendship, and dancing like everyone is watching. She also has a soft spot for culture, politics, and rude Southern people who offend her Yankee sensibilities. She parents 2 elementary-aged children, 1 foster baby, 3 cats, and 1 puppy, who are all Southern but not rude. Yet.

11 thoughts to “Drama Is My Superpower”

  1. It’s good to know that I am not the only one who does awkward dance things in public that look like I have lost my mind.

    I have a commitment problem with “going for it”, so instead I make myself look like a fool approaching and retreating.

    Because that’s better.

  2. Your blog always makes me feel less alone in my awkwardness. Drama keeps life interesting. Where would we be without it? Bored and without superpowers is my guess. That’s not the life for me!

    1. It’s a comment like this that makes me keep blogging. Awkwardness unite. Also, drama does give me something to do that’s not showering, making my bed or remembering to get gas.

  3. Oooooh this gave me some good giggles. ONLY because the moive in my head as I read it looked so similar to my own. I always make up reactions for people and play them in my head and think I’ve had those conversations and react to things that never happened. I can so see myself parking lot dancing with a birthday invitation and I’m already stressing about who to invite and NOT to invite to Roo’s party in AUGUST! Ugh. (you have made the cut but keep it on the DL as those reading this probably have not.)

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