17 April 2017
Story #860
R. Linda:
The one good thing about cousin Sean staying for a bit is that there will be no room at the inn for the Dragon Lady. We were Dragon-free for Easter. What a nice change that was. And that's where the nice ended because the rest of the day was an unmitigated disaster. Oh yes, it was. Gabe spoke too soon, yup.
On Good Friday, Mam insisted we go to church. That would be her, Sean, and yours truly since Tonya and the kiddos were off to school. Me Mam, being a good Catholic, expects the rest of us to be that too, even Tonya, who is a Baptist. Watching Tonya's reaction for the first time in a Catholic church was quite interesting. Her eyes got big at all the statuary, gilt, and marble.
"I feel like I'm in a museum," she had whispered.
Then, she went up and down, on her knees, stood, on her knees again, bowing her head, and holding her hands in prayer with fingers pointed up, not folded like a Baptist. It was all too much for her. By the last time she kneeled, she was groaning loudly on getting up. So it was a good thing she had to work, or she'd have to lie and tell Mam she wasn't feeling well.
We did enough standing, kneeling, sitting, and praying for the entire family. Sean sheepishly asked Mam if we were expected to do this all over again on Easter Sunday.
Well, the talking to he got! She actually took him by the ear like a bad little boy and shoved him in the car with no ceremony, lashing him with her tongue the entire ride home. He had nothing to say for the entire drive. I will tell ya that much. But Mam couldn't stop herself from whipping up on him about being a good Catholic. Gees Louise!
I remember the last time she got on his case years ago when we were kids. It was Ash Wednesday, and he was staying at our house because his Mam was giving birth to his sister at the hospital. Me, Mam sent Sheila, Sean, and yours truly to church for the ash ceremony, but Sean wasn't feeling particularly religious and ditched us to spend his pennies at a candy shop.
When we came in with the proper ash mark on our foreheads, we were Sean-less. Before Sheila and I could make up a story about where Sean was, he came loping up the back stairs with the proper ash mark on his forehead. We found out he was smoking cigarettes with some boyos and used cigarette ash to mark himself so Mam would think he was a good Catholic boy who had gone to church. I tell ya!
It was a week later she found out the truth. I don't know how, but I think me sissy squealed on him. Me Mam let into him like hellfire and brimstone. His face would get guilty red every time he saw her. Still does to this day. Guilty, guilty, guilty!
So Sunday morning came, and guess what? We were all too sick to go to church, but Mam. Annoyed with all of us, including the Baptist, took off by her lonesome to pray for our speedy recovery. She also told the boyos that it was too bad they were sick, no Easter candy for them. There was a miraculous recovery made by O'Hare and the wee one; they got their shoes on, and out the door they went with her. The middle child -- not so much. He wasn't going anywhere; he stood his ground no matter what and was quite confident he'd have his candy because he had already squirrelled it away.
"Yer Mam be driven' me round the bend dare, Gabriel," Sean said. "She be a misery and quite a bit off her latch don't cha tink?"
"Well," I said, getting all Irish meself, "she be a little short of us she finds out we aren't sick, but dare be hope dare be in all dat prayin' she and da boyos are doin' has made us all feel really good."
"You are awful, but I like how you think," Tonya said.
We were having the usual Easter guests over. These are people who have no one to spend the day with. We have done this for a while, and opening our home is no problem. Because I was going to be helping out in the kitchen, I foolishly left it up to cousin Sean to set the tables.
Sean had heard it was going to be a good day with a temperature of 80, so he suggested we have Easter dinner on the deck.
"I don't know how we'd fit all those people on the deck," Tonya said, liking the idea but unsure if we could do it.
"I need ta tink about dis, but if it cont be done den inside, it be," Sean said, determination in his eyes.
And tink, I mean, think he did. We were very busy in the kitchen, so we weren't watching Sean express himself through seating arrangements. Our deck is large, so accommodating tables and chairs seemed an easy project, even for a 4-year-old. What trouble could Sean get into, right? Well, lots.
We did not see the seating arrangements. After working out on the deck all morning, he came in with a huge grin of satisfaction. We assumed all was ready and did not need to trouble our brains. Wrong!
To make this clear to your mind's eye, what Sean had done was set up three big tables on the deck. On the second story deck, he had used card tables in a line with a chair at each so the guests would be facing the backyard, not each other. In other words, elbow to elbow. He presumed the sliding doors would be perfect to come up behind the diners so they could be served over their shoulders. Uh yup.
We discovered this bizarre arrangement too late to fix it! He had done a lovely job of place settings with flowers on each card table. If only he had used the rest of the deck for the people on the upper deck, he'd have gotten a gold star. But no, we had this crazy up-your-nose arrangement worthy of a disaster award.
No one thought it was a wonderful idea. So, not being able to do a thing about this but hang Sean by his thumbs as scenery, Tonya reluctantly made him agree that should any of the "rail diners" complain, we are to set them on the lower deck no matter how tight a squeeze.
The one that was the least happy was Mam returning from Easter service. As soon as she saw the set-up, she started to complain about what a dolt Sean was. Sean explained that there was a great view of the mountains and that the diners would appreciate it.
"Ye could put all da tables on da lawn instead, and everyone can eat together." She argued.
That would have been too easy.
"No time, Mother O'Sullivan," Tonya said, gesturing her head in the direction of the arriving guests in the driveway.
I tell ya, me knees, ankles, and feet hurt from getting the rail diners up the stairs, out on the deck, and then running back downstairs to cater food up through me bedroom to the deck where six were seated all in a row. They didn't know what to think of this arrangement. One rather liked it, the rest . . . not so much. They were yelling at the diners on the deck below in conversation, so it was a loud bit going on.
It was a tight squeeze up there, but I finally got everyone served. Then, I sat down to me own dinner on the deck, only to be summoned back upstairs because the rail diners needed more cranberry sauce. OI!
I was like a jackrabbit, up and down, up and down. Just as I was about to take me first bite of turkey, Sean said, "Uh Gabe, I tink I be feelin' raindrops dare." Yes, the heavens opened up. Yes, they did, it freaking poured. The guests on the deck (because they had room to move) gathered up the plates and took them all inside almost unscathed. The rail diners, uh . . . not so much. Sean and I ran upstairs because Sean had wedged them all in quite tightly, and we had to extract them from the tables and pull them inside where they were dripping wet, their turkey and fixings floating in rainwater . . . need I go on? I ran out of towels, luckily not turkey, but who wanted to eat after THAT? No one.
We called it. An early Easter was had by all, and they all ended up going home, and we had lots of cake. Yes, dessert was partaken of by a few hangers-on from the lower deck who thought it was all very funny. The upper deck? Every single one went home . . . mad and wet.
I have a feeling many of the guests will not be back for next year's feasting. No, I think Sean put the kibosh on Easter dinner from now on. He is persona non grata at the moment. The boyos are the only ones talking to him about how cool this and that person looked drenched to the skin. How they now know potatoes don't float once mashed and how gravy glistens in water and looks like blobs of dog doo. Oh yeah, pleasant stuff, those kiddos.
How can someone who looks nice until he opens his mouth be such a bungling idiot? Well, Mam will ensure he doesn't hear the last of it. Yup.
But we do have a lovely cake Tonya made. See below:
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
Story #860
R. Linda:
The one good thing about cousin Sean staying for a bit is that there will be no room at the inn for the Dragon Lady. We were Dragon-free for Easter. What a nice change that was. And that's where the nice ended because the rest of the day was an unmitigated disaster. Oh yes, it was. Gabe spoke too soon, yup.
On Good Friday, Mam insisted we go to church. That would be her, Sean, and yours truly since Tonya and the kiddos were off to school. Me Mam, being a good Catholic, expects the rest of us to be that too, even Tonya, who is a Baptist. Watching Tonya's reaction for the first time in a Catholic church was quite interesting. Her eyes got big at all the statuary, gilt, and marble.
"I feel like I'm in a museum," she had whispered.
Then, she went up and down, on her knees, stood, on her knees again, bowing her head, and holding her hands in prayer with fingers pointed up, not folded like a Baptist. It was all too much for her. By the last time she kneeled, she was groaning loudly on getting up. So it was a good thing she had to work, or she'd have to lie and tell Mam she wasn't feeling well.
We did enough standing, kneeling, sitting, and praying for the entire family. Sean sheepishly asked Mam if we were expected to do this all over again on Easter Sunday.
Well, the talking to he got! She actually took him by the ear like a bad little boy and shoved him in the car with no ceremony, lashing him with her tongue the entire ride home. He had nothing to say for the entire drive. I will tell ya that much. But Mam couldn't stop herself from whipping up on him about being a good Catholic. Gees Louise!
I remember the last time she got on his case years ago when we were kids. It was Ash Wednesday, and he was staying at our house because his Mam was giving birth to his sister at the hospital. Me, Mam sent Sheila, Sean, and yours truly to church for the ash ceremony, but Sean wasn't feeling particularly religious and ditched us to spend his pennies at a candy shop.
When we came in with the proper ash mark on our foreheads, we were Sean-less. Before Sheila and I could make up a story about where Sean was, he came loping up the back stairs with the proper ash mark on his forehead. We found out he was smoking cigarettes with some boyos and used cigarette ash to mark himself so Mam would think he was a good Catholic boy who had gone to church. I tell ya!
It was a week later she found out the truth. I don't know how, but I think me sissy squealed on him. Me Mam let into him like hellfire and brimstone. His face would get guilty red every time he saw her. Still does to this day. Guilty, guilty, guilty!
So Sunday morning came, and guess what? We were all too sick to go to church, but Mam. Annoyed with all of us, including the Baptist, took off by her lonesome to pray for our speedy recovery. She also told the boyos that it was too bad they were sick, no Easter candy for them. There was a miraculous recovery made by O'Hare and the wee one; they got their shoes on, and out the door they went with her. The middle child -- not so much. He wasn't going anywhere; he stood his ground no matter what and was quite confident he'd have his candy because he had already squirrelled it away.
"Yer Mam be driven' me round the bend dare, Gabriel," Sean said. "She be a misery and quite a bit off her latch don't cha tink?"
"Well," I said, getting all Irish meself, "she be a little short of us she finds out we aren't sick, but dare be hope dare be in all dat prayin' she and da boyos are doin' has made us all feel really good."
"You are awful, but I like how you think," Tonya said.
We were having the usual Easter guests over. These are people who have no one to spend the day with. We have done this for a while, and opening our home is no problem. Because I was going to be helping out in the kitchen, I foolishly left it up to cousin Sean to set the tables.
Sean had heard it was going to be a good day with a temperature of 80, so he suggested we have Easter dinner on the deck.
"I don't know how we'd fit all those people on the deck," Tonya said, liking the idea but unsure if we could do it.
"I need ta tink about dis, but if it cont be done den inside, it be," Sean said, determination in his eyes.
And tink, I mean, think he did. We were very busy in the kitchen, so we weren't watching Sean express himself through seating arrangements. Our deck is large, so accommodating tables and chairs seemed an easy project, even for a 4-year-old. What trouble could Sean get into, right? Well, lots.
We did not see the seating arrangements. After working out on the deck all morning, he came in with a huge grin of satisfaction. We assumed all was ready and did not need to trouble our brains. Wrong!
To make this clear to your mind's eye, what Sean had done was set up three big tables on the deck. On the second story deck, he had used card tables in a line with a chair at each so the guests would be facing the backyard, not each other. In other words, elbow to elbow. He presumed the sliding doors would be perfect to come up behind the diners so they could be served over their shoulders. Uh yup.
We discovered this bizarre arrangement too late to fix it! He had done a lovely job of place settings with flowers on each card table. If only he had used the rest of the deck for the people on the upper deck, he'd have gotten a gold star. But no, we had this crazy up-your-nose arrangement worthy of a disaster award.
No one thought it was a wonderful idea. So, not being able to do a thing about this but hang Sean by his thumbs as scenery, Tonya reluctantly made him agree that should any of the "rail diners" complain, we are to set them on the lower deck no matter how tight a squeeze.
The one that was the least happy was Mam returning from Easter service. As soon as she saw the set-up, she started to complain about what a dolt Sean was. Sean explained that there was a great view of the mountains and that the diners would appreciate it.
"Ye could put all da tables on da lawn instead, and everyone can eat together." She argued.
That would have been too easy.
"No time, Mother O'Sullivan," Tonya said, gesturing her head in the direction of the arriving guests in the driveway.
I tell ya, me knees, ankles, and feet hurt from getting the rail diners up the stairs, out on the deck, and then running back downstairs to cater food up through me bedroom to the deck where six were seated all in a row. They didn't know what to think of this arrangement. One rather liked it, the rest . . . not so much. They were yelling at the diners on the deck below in conversation, so it was a loud bit going on.
It was a tight squeeze up there, but I finally got everyone served. Then, I sat down to me own dinner on the deck, only to be summoned back upstairs because the rail diners needed more cranberry sauce. OI!
I was like a jackrabbit, up and down, up and down. Just as I was about to take me first bite of turkey, Sean said, "Uh Gabe, I tink I be feelin' raindrops dare." Yes, the heavens opened up. Yes, they did, it freaking poured. The guests on the deck (because they had room to move) gathered up the plates and took them all inside almost unscathed. The rail diners, uh . . . not so much. Sean and I ran upstairs because Sean had wedged them all in quite tightly, and we had to extract them from the tables and pull them inside where they were dripping wet, their turkey and fixings floating in rainwater . . . need I go on? I ran out of towels, luckily not turkey, but who wanted to eat after THAT? No one.
We called it. An early Easter was had by all, and they all ended up going home, and we had lots of cake. Yes, dessert was partaken of by a few hangers-on from the lower deck who thought it was all very funny. The upper deck? Every single one went home . . . mad and wet.
I have a feeling many of the guests will not be back for next year's feasting. No, I think Sean put the kibosh on Easter dinner from now on. He is persona non grata at the moment. The boyos are the only ones talking to him about how cool this and that person looked drenched to the skin. How they now know potatoes don't float once mashed and how gravy glistens in water and looks like blobs of dog doo. Oh yeah, pleasant stuff, those kiddos.
How can someone who looks nice until he opens his mouth be such a bungling idiot? Well, Mam will ensure he doesn't hear the last of it. Yup.
But we do have a lovely cake Tonya made. See below:
 |
| Tonya putting the finishing touches on the Easter Egg Cake with Sean supervising |
 |
| Finished Cake YUMMY - so at least there was that. |
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
Howsitgoin Gabe? You make me out to have a fierce hard accent there Gabriel, no more strong than your own. Your story was grand altogether there, we survived yesterday didn't we though? Was a good time, lots of laughs. Can't wait for next Easter.
ReplyDeleteOhhh! Man with a death wish.
Deletefunny funny funny. i can see a lot of sean stories coming.
ReplyDeleteROFLMAAO sorry! The rain didn't kill anyone. That cake looked yummy, what kind? Sounds like my adventures in church. I'd go to mass on Sundays with my mom, BUT I'd have a kitty keyring or flushing toilet toy in my pocket and set one of them off when it got quiet. My mom would give me the dirtiest looks and remind me I had kids, PLEASE behave! Oh yrah I also taught catechism. Oops
ReplyDeleteIt was a chocolate layer on the bottom and a vanilla layer on the top. Buttercream in the middle, and under the chocolate ganache more buttercream. All made from scratch.
Delete