Most of this day consisted
of preparing for Anabelle’s big dinner gathering.
She put the final
touches on the cake, while I ran out to pick up the inevitably forgotten
ingredient. In this case, it was coffee.
Rosa and I, working ever as a seamless team, had both bought regular
coffees with a green label thinking it was decaf.
Anabelle cleaned up and
set the table while I set up a punch line for later in the evening.
We worked as a team once
I returned. She sautéed up some mushroom
and olive juice spinach while I dug around for the giant macaroni pot.
Then she followed my
instructions for seasoning my garlic bread while I cleaned the giant macaroni
pot, which had been untouched in the closet since sometime before the Battle of
Bunker Hill.
She took a break before
church to rest a bit and calm down.
I took the same time to
panic about the impending rainstorm, and then stand out in it and stare at the
previously offending drain. After
coercing the water level to drop using only my force of will, I reentered the house.
We went to church where
my nieces were both altar servers.
Aurora, as the older more experienced one, acted as a field commander,
nudging her sister along the right path.
Veronica followed the lead well for the most part, with the exception of
getting a little too enthusiastic about some of the catchier hymns. There was a bit of blessed down and funkiness
going on up there from time to time.
We came back and started
an unprecedented amount of water boiling.
The time allowed for some socialization over garlic bread and the “Angry
Badger” wine as Anabelle titled it. In her defense, the bear on the Toasted
Head label was a tad vague.
Once the water was
going, she added in three pounds of fettuccini.
Then she panicked because she lacked the strength to get that much
macaroni moving in the pot. My big contribution to dinner was as “Power
stirrer.”
The panic rose a second
time as she kept tasting it and declaring it had no flavors. I talked her down reminding her it was at
least six times more than she’d ever cooked at once and encouraged her to keep
tossing in spices and everything else in mass quantities.
When it was finally
ready, it was a huge success.
YEAH! *Jazz hands*
The cake was an equally
smashing success.
More *Jazz hands*
There were much
Minecraft conversations, throwing Grandma into levels of confusion about a
passtime and the line between “in game” and “real life” that hadn’t been seen
since the first time I played Dungeons and Dragons.
They waited until just
after a quarter past goofy tired and took the kids home for some full bellied
rest.
We did a bunch of
cleaning up and called Mami for some night “miss you”s.
I called my Mom for the
punch line I set up earlier asking how the coffee was. Her answer, “A little strong but good. Why?”
When I went to clean the
coffee maker, I was stunned to find and empty filter. I accidentally bought instant and then put
around five times the needed amount for the pot size in the machine.
Kind of strong? Thanx for your kindness, Mom.
Anabelle showered while
I finished the cleaning, before some inspirational interactive storytelling
using creativity enhancing props.
OK, we played with the
superhero action figures.
She went to bed, and I
decided to exercise for a little while to take the edge off a long day, before
quickly turning in.
Unfortunately, the
unrated set of Alien vs. Predator films arrived, and I went to bed at 3:40AM.
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