It’s that time of year again that Jamie dreads. That time when I have a brain aneurysm and somehow forget over a 48-hour period that I cannot do crafts. That I have never been able to do crafts and I never will be able to do crafts.
Yes, it’s Super Saturday Season, folks. For those unaware, Super Saturday occurs once a year for those crazy Mormons who actually relish in this stuff. Those same people I should just stick to paying to do it for me.
I get pressured into it every year and out of guilt, I go. I vowed after last year’s nightmare wherein it took weeks for me to recover that I would boycott it all together. And it was easy because our ward’s leader is about as lacking in domesticity as yours truly and had “crafts” such as “101 Things to Do with Wheat” and “How to Make a Pinewood Derby Car.” This is no lie.
My plan was going well until, unfortunately, other people started boycotting and they decided to combine with some other wards and hold a two-day extravaganza. Other wards that had the most cute and affordable crafts that would make darling Christmas gifts. And so I signed up for pretty much everything I could get my hot little signup pen on. Again, a result of the brain aneurysm, folks.
When I arrived on Friday at 6 p.m., I meant business. I had five sets of four different crafts to crank out in a matter of hours. I set up shop and just dared anyone to even try to converse with me. I sat next to a chirpy, sweet girl who is soooooo unbelievably happy all the time. Especially when doing crafts.
I blocked her out and stayed focused. Unfortunately after a couple of hours I realized how astronomical it was for me to try to crank out 20 complicated crafts in one evening. Then panic set in. Mishap after mishap then occurred when my resolve became shattered and at 11 p.m., I was the last one there and still unfinished. They sent me home with one completed set of each and I need to do the rest on my own.
But it doesn’t end there. I still had to do the other gazillion things for which I signed up. And so I dragged myself back to the den of iniquity on Saturday, my normal day of play. But this time with The Hurricane and The Slug because Mr. Promotion now works weekends. It just kept getting better and better.
But the real kicker came at the end. When I was FINALLY done I went to settle the account for my cute and affordable gifts and came to realize they weren’t quite as cute (my fault) and affordable (theirs) as anticipated. Call me crazy but when I registered for $6.50 a set, I assumed by the syntax of the wording that a set meant more than one. Nope. I guess in their Domestic Diva Dictionary, a set means just one item, which meant my tab did not come out to the $40 I had roughly calculated but rather, almost $200.
Moody and spewing, I stormed home and fumed to Jamie about my harrowing descent into domesticity. And made the avowal that never again will I submit myself to the anguish and torment of Super Saturday.
Unless they do something really cute again next year.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 