Sombrero Story

A few days ago my friend texted and asked me for a favor.  “Hey, do you happen to have a sombrero that my son could borrow for a history project?”  At 48 with failing vision and more skin spots than a giraffe I was thrilled for an opportunity to be useful on any level.  After surveying my inventory I responded, “Yes!  I have 2 sombreros and a chili hat – he’s welcome to whatever he wants.”  In the process of texting back-and-forth I was under the impression that she needed it the next day, so I had them all sitting on the counter for easy access.  When Cory got home from work I explained why they were out and instructed him in case she happened to come when I wasn’t around. 

That’s when Cory went into Cory-mode (oh, it's a thing) and said, “You know what we should do?  As soon as we hear the doorbell ring I’ll throw on the chili pepper hat and answer the door and do a little cha-cha-cha (he said while swinging his hips side to side).”  He is often prone to ideas like this and I normally respond with super supportive eye-rolls, but I dug deep and decided to try and be fun.  So I got on board and said, “Ok, I’ll throw on a sombrero and do a little rebel yell behind you to add extra flair.”  Our plan was set.  I texted Kristen that we were home all night and she could swing by whenever it was convenient.  About 20 minutes later the doorbell rang.  Cory ran and grabbed his hat off the island and headed for the front door, and I threw on a sombrero and trailed behind him, all set to impress.  As he swung it open I went for it, and from the depths of my soul yelled out, “AY AY AY Ay Ay ay a…” and my voice trailed off as I realized, to my utter horror, that IT WAS NOT OUR FRIENDS!  It was our neighbor, THE ONE WE HARDLY KNOW, and he held a piece of mail in front of him and said, “Uh…this accidentally came in our mailbox and it looks important so I wanted to make sure you guys got it.”  We stood there like the two complete morons that we were and tried to explain what we were doing but the more we talked the more uncomfortable he seemed, so we finally muttered a weak, “Thank you” and shut the door.

I collapsed on the couch in a mixture of total embarrassment and complete hilarity and burst out laughing.  “Cory!  What just happened?”  He just shook his head and walked away.  I went to the kitchen and checked my phone to see the most recent text from my friend:  “It’s ok, it’s not due for several days so I’ll come by sometime next week.”  I immediately called her up, “Hello?” she answered.

“Oh my gosh, you’re not going to believe what just happened.”

What do you think, are we crushing it at empty-nesting or is it time to join a Bingo group?