I’ve booked my cab ride to the airport, printed my boarding passes, and made my packing list. I’m ready to GO. Two weeks away from work! I could be spending it installing plumbing in a steaming hot third world country, and it would still feel like a vacation. Instead I will be spending it with my family, who I both love and like — so unhipsterish of me! — and eating copious amounts of Cajun food. There will probably be lots of Pinot Grigio drinking as well, knowing my mother/sister/aunt.
My mother emailed me the catered menu for Granny’s 90th birthday party last week, and ohhhmygod:
- Hot crab dip
- Shrimp & chicken salad sandwiches
- Brisket (with rolls so you can make brisket sandwiches)
- Boudin balls
- Cheese & grapes platter
- Rice dressing
- Jalapeño peppers stuffed with crab and deep-fried
If you have never had a boudin ball before, you should remedy that. If boudin is like eating a spicy cloud, boudin balls are like eating baby angels.
I’m not sure if my mother’s horrible older sister and her even more horrible husband are making an appearance. We can’t stop them from flying in, but the party is in my parent’s house (it’s an open house from 2-6, so people will be coming and going), and they are Not Welcome there. My mother isn’t even mad at them anymore, if she ever was. I think she was more hurt and disappointed after the final straw. She just has nothing to say to them. Which is more neutral than most of her kids feel; we all actively loathe both of them. Jamie says if they show up, “I’m putting Sarah in the doorway”. Apparently, I have a bit of a reputation in my family. I can’t imagine where that came from.
The thing that I can’t forgive is what they said about Phil (“I wouldn’t let him work on a dead alligator”). His whole entire life, practically, has been about being a doctor. Whether that was out of altruism or because he enjoys it is irrelevant; the end result is the same: he’s spent his life improving other people’s lives. To malign that out of petty, ugly small-mindedness… I just can’t forgive it.
Besides, what the hell has either one of those assholes ever done for the world? Linda married a man rich enough to allow her to never leave her apartment again; Larry bullied and screamed at people and called it “finances” (and it’s all crumbled to dust, they lost most of it in the most recent economic implosion), and together they raised 3 kids my mother oh-so-accurately described as “boils on the butt of humanity”.