Guess Who's Coming To Dinner

Oh god.

She's coming to dinner?

Can we afford this?

I'm not talking about the steaks and the wine, I'm talking about replacing the picture frame in the hallway.

The picture frame. The one with your family photo in it?

I know, it was cheap, but what a mess. Shards of broken glass everywhere. How the heck did she break it anyway?

Reaching for the light switch? Huh?

Oh, the hall light was out. She was just waving her hand around looking for the bathroom light. I get it. What a spaz.

So then I go see what the fuss is about and she's standing in the hallway, holding a chunk of glass, in the dark, laughing her head off.

Laughing! She just broke our family photo and she's standing there laughing!

No, no, wait, it gets better.

She goes in the bathroom, cause she's got the runs... what? How do I know that? Cause I went in the bathroom after her and it was like somebody crawled up her a-hole and died up there. Holy hell, did it stink.

What?

Oh, yeah, so she goes in the bathroom cause she has diarrhea, and she's laughing in there. Laughing her head off! And crapping! And laughing! I could hear the noises, the watery splashing noises. And her laughing so hard she was wheezing or something, like Snidely Whiplash, wheezing and crapping and laughing.

She's not wired up right, I tell you.

Just a few weeks ago she was at someone else's house and she went into the bathroom (I don't know why she has to go into other people's bathrooms... no, I don't know if she stunk it up. No, I won't ask...) and she came out a few minutes later with a potlight in her hand!

"Er," she sez, "I broke this."

A potlight! All she had to do was pee, and she broke the bathroom light!

No, no, stop laughing, it gets even freaking worse.

The time before she was at that house, she broke the dining room chair. Her fat arse plumped itself in the chair and one of the arms fell right off it! So she kinda stuck it back on and grinned like a dope, and the arm promptly fell off again.

Her own mother has the best story of all, though.

When she was in college she came home for Thanksgiving weekend and the first thing she did when she walked in the house was rush over to the stove where four homebaked pies were cooling.

Somebody recalls her yelling "PIES!" and then the next thing you know she was sticking her baby finger in one of the pumpkin pies and then it was ON the FLOOR! Pumpkin pie, all over the freaking floor, and there she stood, broken glass and pumpkin all over the freshly washed kitchen floor, two minutes in the door, two minutes, and the place looked like somebody stuck a grenade in a pumpkin.

Chaos, I'm telling ya, chaos!

Can we really afford to have her over for dinner?

We're not having pie, are we?

This post is dedicated to Sam, who spilled an entire glass of milk on the floor Friday morning and then an entire mug of coffee not more than half an hour later. Isn't it adorable that he takes after his mommy?