|Lucy, Levi, and Hazel|
The oil sizzled on the pan as my friend Janell made naan and garam masala chicken. Her little ones (Hazel is 4 and Levi is 1) raced back and forth through the kitchen. I held Lucy while she leaned around me to watch the kids run around. She squealed in delight.
Janell and I tried to carry on a conversation.
“Do you use essential oils? How do you use them?”
“Did you read that article on Facebook?”
“What did you think about this week’s sermon?”
About halfway through each conversation we were interrupted by a kid who was crying, hungry, or asking for help.
Our husbands were out for the night so we thought it’d be fun to get together for dinner with the kids—to combine efforts, if you will. Our good intentions, though, led to a lot of joyful chaos. Well, mostly joyful.
We never did finish a single conversation that night. And yet I drove home feeling incredibly known and loved. How many people have friends where you can just stop by their house, bring chicken, make dinner together, and help wrangle the kids—all last minute?