We don't do family dinner every Sunday, but if we do a family dinner we do it on a Sunday. I tried to make that sentence as complicated as possible and I think I did a great job. Win.
Things were going great and pretty normal.
Shelley brought her new long board skate board so there was some playing on that. I needed help with somethings from my Dad, and Lu pushed her new Build-A-Bear around in a stroller. All in all, pretty good. Pretty fun. We'd had a few laughs. Someone (not Lucy) had already wet their pants from the hilarity of the long board riding so yeah, good family dinner. Solid.
Dessert was where things started to go down hill and I'll be honest, I'm not entirely sure how this happened but I do know that there is still milk in my hair and dried ice cream on my cheek.
The play by play:
Tonight at dinner.
Fe was getting things set in the kitchen for dessert - we were in their dining room. Lucy came in with the brownies (she's big into helping these days), I took them and asked her to go back and grab plates and a spatula.
Fe hollered back "No plates! I don't want to do more dishes. I don't care what gets on the table cloth."
Oh, Fe. You angel. What on earth were you thinking when you said that? WHY would you ever say something like that? She basically opened a rabbit hole with her words and by the end of the night, well, I had to have my rings cleaned and Shelley needed two baby wipes to get her face clean.
The four of us (PK, Chuck, Shelley and Me) started in pretty good on Fe about the plates. Harassing Fe is one of our favorite past times, so this was a no brainer. We had to lay into her. Why couldn't we have plates? Why didn't she love us enough for us to have plates? Why was she cheapening our meal?
We set the brownies on the table cloth and started eating.
But then we had a kind of "give a mouse a cookie moment" and said we all wanted ice cream.
Well, then Fe came out with ice cream AND BOWLS and we all were a little perplexed at the blatant hypocrisy. What was her prejudice against plates and why were we suddenly being afforded a dishware? Could it be that she did actually care what got on the table cloth and what revoking her previous statement?
PK decided he'd had enough of her flip flopping.
He put the ice cream on the table and all but forbid spoons. The Father had spoken: we ate the ice cream like Randy from A Christmas Story.
Then, Shelley said she wanted milk.
Obviously, PK was not allowing cups after the stance he took with the brownies and the ice cream. And obviously, none of this was going too far at all. Shelley and I cupped our hands and Dad poured in the milk. Eventually we just sucked it right off the table.
By the end of this, the table was destroyed - I mean, really decimated - and Lucy was mooning us. I'm not sure how that last part fits in, but my the time you've eaten a scoop of chocolate ice cream off a dining room table - things get foggy.
I decided to put all the pictures at the end so you could really watch this escalate. Of course I didn't bring my camera so this is all iPhone but at least we have them. Good luck Fe: you said you didn't care what go on that table cloth. Fingers crossed it comes clean.
Day Twelve: I love my family because this actually felt completely normal.
|Brownie sans plates. If she'd just given us plates...|
|My dessert: brownies and ice cream.|
|Having some milk. The milk in a glass already on the table was from dinner and therefore considered null and void for dessert.|
|Straws don't count has dishware or utensils so I think this is fine.|
|Milk and ice cream.|
|Dipping my brownies in my milk.|
|Yep, that is my Twilight Valentine's Day card from Fe and PK.|