Unforgettable Party

Bob stretched and yawned at the same time.

Boy that felt good!  He thought, getting out of the warm bed and making his way to the bathroom.

Bob’s thoughts were filled with the day ahead.  It was the Fourth of July and he was hosting his first neighborhood barbecue since moving to Florida. 

Michelle rolled over and looked at the clock.  It was early, only six-thirty.  She considered whether she should get up and help her husband.

“Don’t get up,” Bob ordered sweetly.  “Sleep in a little longer, I’ll handle everything.”

Handle everything indeed.  Bob was known for being a ‘little’ OCD, obsessive compulsive.  When he got to doing something, he took it over, almost to the point of obsession and rarely letting anyone in to help, Michelle included.

Michelle smiled and rolled back on her side.  I’m not even going to fight this one,” she thought and closed her eyes, quickly falling back to sleep.

Bob went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, surveying the steaks, chicken, and hotdogs for the barbecue.

“This is going to be a feast,” he said proudly.  “Now, time to make the salads.”

By the time Michelle came out, Bob was going at a frenzied pace in the kitchen. 

“Things are going great,” he boasted, not giving Michelle a chance to offer her services.  He did, finally ask her to do something.  “Hey Michelle, look at the pasta for me, I want to go out to the garage to look for the flag.”     

Bob walked out side and opened the garage door.  He saw his neighbor Stan outside dressed in the ugliest pair of Bermuda shorts he had ever seen.

“See you at the party, Bob,” Stan called out.

“Yeah, I think it’s going to be a good one,” Bob boasted, he really could not help himself.

By noon, everything was underway and Bob finally took a break.

By three o’clock Bob and Michelle were dressed and ready to receive their guests.  At three-thirty Bob was growing antsy.  None of the guests had arrived.

Michelle, reading his thoughts said, “Maybe the invitation said four o’clock.  I’ll go check one that was left over.”

Michelle came out of Bob’s den with a box full of invitations.

“Just how many invitations did you order at the printers, Bob?”  Michelle asked, fearing she already knew the answer.

“Fifty,” Bob answered, slightly irritated.  “Why?”

“Bob, there’s about fifty invitations here.”