Step 1. Receive phone call yesterday from nice lady who says she would like to bring dinner tomorrow night (i.e today). Make arrangements for 18:30 drop off.
Step 2. Forget all about said conversation.
Step 3. Make dinner, put it on the table, and start eating with family at 18:15, finish and relax with conversation and coffee.
Step 4. As soon as 18:30 arrives, hear knock on the door.
Step 5. Freeze. Horrified. SUDDENLY REMEMBER THAT SHE WAS BRINGING DINNER AT 18:30.
Step 6. Whisper at husband to CLEAR OUT THE PLATES ASAP.
Step 7. While husband (who has no idea what is going on) tries unsuccessfully to clear out the table, answer the door so that both kind lady and her husband step right into the dining room with a roaster full of chicken and a wonderful apple pie. Too bad that the table is already full of dirty plates.
I don't think anybody bought my story about serving dinner to Emma because she is a picky eater and just had gastroenteritis. I have no idea what I should have said. Nothing really made sense at this point to anybody other than myself.