Family - Isn't there a return policy?
All,
I do so love the holidays! Family meals with hours of cooking, cleaning, washing and cooking more. So what really happened: RoseMarie (aka Mom) began the bird the night prior - in the oven, a light in butter and spices in a warm oven at 275F. Grandmama Antonella (who is all knowing) turns up the bird before going to bed to 375F! Morning and I awaken to shrieking! Yes, the bird is black and Grandmama whispers quite loudly to Dad - "I know you married her for her breasts and eyes!" I am laughing til tears flow BUT then Mom swings around and spies my face - "And what exactly is so funny? " "hmmm, thinking of you with boobs that stay up and big beautiful eyes?" (Please note this is said while I begin forward motion - very quickly running back upstairs to sanity) Next thing you know, bro and I are tagged for a field trip to locate another bird at WALMART (which is the only damn place open) while Mom bemoans the fact that her special bird is blacker than tar. Said special bird was picked out while he was alive and fat and then picked up on the day of his death. Not exactly an enticing idea for dinner. Well, there are no big birds left, so we purchase 3 medium birds - we do not want to have to go back to that place anytime this week. Arrive home with medium birds and more yelling - how exactly am I to cook 3 birds in one OVEN. Did I mention my family background is Italian, German and some other yelling ethnicity? We were sent back out in disgrace to a town 30 miles away who claimed to have large birds still available. (At this point, it's 9:30 am so we're looking at a 6pm dinner) Get lost, find place (follow the smell) and found bird (also know as HUGE bird - freakin Mom called ahead and they have waiting for us a 27 lb bird) I figured we should have brought a car seat for the thing!
Back again and cooking commences. I hope to make myself scarce and get out of cooking duties but no, while beloved Erick is sitting in 'media room' with my dad, bro and rest of the crazies - I get to do the potatoes. Media room is a whole other story for a dark and stormy night. Now there were some perks to cooking - I get to drink wine with the 'ladies' since we're the cooks. Hmmm 2 glasses of chianti at 10 am and life is starting to be ok. YEAH all food is in oven or on stove with proper temps. I am released from my bondage.
Erick and I go for very long walk - he's so funny - we walk, not needing to talk and simply just enjoy being with each other and the feel of his hand in mine. And of course, at the most charming moments, he swings me in his arms and kisses me til I see stars. BUT guess who was looking out the window! You got it - Dad! Out he comes, arms a-waving, asking us if we have lost our minds and what were we trying to do - Father Ansolm was coming any minute and for him to see such a thing!!! (YES - our local priest came to dinner - this was cause alone for mucho merriment)
Dinner begins, Father gives the blessing and then one of my cousins asks if he can have some of that big juicy breast, ya know, like RoseMarie's? Have mercy - I thought my mother would clock him silly with the gravy ladle. She comes around the table and yells - "Excuse me Vincente, but did you just say something?" Now if he lived with us, he would have realized this was the 'sign' to say, no RoseMarie, I did not say anything at all, but the fool repeats himself. She leans in, whispers something in his ear and then pulls him from the chair by the ear. Did I mention he's 22? Aunt Carly (Carlotta) is mortified and starts crying, Grandmama says 'what's the issue, it's the truth' and my father - he stands up and begins to carve the bird. Poor Father Ansolm - only good thing is he's almost deaf so perhaps he didn't hear most of it. Rest of the table digs in and the eating begins. Mom and Vin return - he's red and pretty good about sitting down, kissing his mom and then stands up and announces "To my family - I am sorry for the insult I have given to my aunt. Forgive me." Can't say I didn't see that coming - the public announcement of guilt and beg for forgiveness - it's a mom specialty.
We enjoy the meal - without major issues. More family stories of who did what and how embarassing it was... Then off to watch football. Anyone under 21 is volunteered in to cleaning the table and setting it for the dessert course. Around 9:00 pm, Mom calls everyone back in and we sit for our sweets. This is the best part - and it is also nice when our parents (those over 21) share what they are grateful for - we don't get to play as we are too young to have a clue what to be grateful about yet. But it is nice - my mom said I was her angel and while my horns grow long sometimes, I fill her heart with love. Dad is a bit more direct - glad you're my daughter - even if you're boyfriend isn't Italian.
Gotta love it.