Story 486: Easter Blizzard

Relative 1: (On the phone) You know it’s supposed to snow on Easter Sunday, right?  Really badly.

Host: (On the phone) I did hear that vile rumor, and I refuse to lend it any credence: unlike the rest of the world, including the Equator, our area’s had zippo snow this winter, and I absolutely reject buying into the circulating gossip that our one and only blizzard this go-round will arrive post-post-season in the middle of April!

Relative 1: Well, believe it or not; either way, nobody’s showing up at your house for dinner that day.

Host: I’ve got 15 pounds of ham here!  And all that charcuterie!

Relative 1: Maybe save it for Mother’s Day?

Host: You’re no help.

 EASTER SUNDAY

(Host wakes up suddenly, jumps out of bed, runs to the window, throws back the curtains, and takes in the winter wonderland continuously buried by sideways snowfall)

Host: Holy heavens – how is he supposed to rise in this?!

(Some time later, Host is awkwardly shoveling the driveway in a losing battle when the cell phone rings.  Flinging the shovel away and using teeth to tear off a glove, Host unzips several layers of coats to take the phone out of an inner pocket)

Host: (Screaming against the ice-ridden wind) HELLO?!

Relative 1: (Relaxing on an armchair with feet propped up on a cushioned stool in front of a roaring fire, and sipping hot tea) Don’t tell me you’re actually shoveling out your driveway for nonexistent guests.

Host: NOT EVERYONE CANCELLED!

Relative 1: Yeah, bet they’re the same ones who didn’t bother to tell you they were coming in the first place, either.

Host: …IT WAS ASSUMED THEY WERE!

Relative 1: Wait until the snow’s over to shovel it all out; just go back inside and enjoy your ham, `cause I know you cooked it anyway.

Host: IT WAS ALREADY DEFROSTING!

Relative 1: I hear ya.  Whelp, Happy Easter to you – don’t throw out your back.

Host: HAPPY EASTER TO YOU – (The wind almost blows the phone away; Host scrambles to get it back) TOOOOOO!!!!!

Relative 1: (As both end the call) Poor sap.  (Takes a nap)

(After finally realizing that the snow being shoveled is replaced immediately, Host re-enters the house, throws the coats, boots, gloves, and hats into the laundry room, slams the door, and enters the kitchen to check on the ham)

Host: (Opens the oven door) Roast, my lovely, roast.  (Hears the cell phone ringing inside the laundry room) Shoot.  (Slams shut the oven door and flings open the laundry room door to paw through the coats until the phone is found and answered) Hello?

Relative 2: Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but the fam and I aren’t going to make it there today.

Host: I figured.

Relative 2: Yeah, just can’t get going today for some reason.  Sorry also for calling so last-minute – everybody else is already there by now, I bet.

Host: (As the house shudders with a giant blast of wind) No, not really.

Relative 2: Ah, well, you always get a few cancellations at these get-togethers, that’s how it goes.  Happy Easter anyway, and Happy Spring!  (Ends the call)

Host: (Stares at the silent phone) Was that one calling from the Sun?!

(Later that afternoon, after ham dinner-for-one, Host lies on the couch while watching the wintry outdoors; the snowdrifts are now climbing up the windows)

Host: (Unwraps a chocolate bunny and bites off the head) My poor pansies.  (CHOMP) Poor birds.  (CHOMP)  Poor trees, poor grass, poor flowers, poor spring babies.  (CHOMP)  Poor ham, poor appetizers, poor desserts.  (Finishes the bunny and smacks lips in satisfaction) Ahhhh… at least one thing went right today.  (Looks again out the window, which is nearly a wall of white) Well, guess we’ll just have to look forward to a summer of 100°F for months on end to make up for this.

Story 278: We’re Not Fighting, We’re Just Loud

            Friend 1: (Parallel parks the car next to a driveway entrance, then exits to measure the half-inch clearance between the driveway in front and the car behind them) Nailed it!  Let’s go.

           Friend 2: (As they walk to the target house two blocks away) This actually is my first Easter dinner – thanks again for the invite, since I wasn’t doing anything anyway, and I like your family.

          Friend 1: Sure, but you’re doing me the favor: I’ll need company during the lulls between courses.  (Suddenly stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk) Oh.

            Friend 2: (Searches through bags) What, did you forget one of the desserts we were supposed to bring?

            Friend 1: No, I just realized: you’ve met my family, but you’ve never met my Family.

            Friend 2: Aaaaand, what’s the difference?

            Friend 1: You’ve met my immediate family of six, which is a pretty sedate crowd –

            Friend 2: If you say so.

          Friend 1: – but you haven’t met the others in my Whole Family, when there’s 40 of us crammed into one room.

            Friend 2: What?!

           Friend 1: OK, more like 25 of us spread across three rooms and a basement, but you get the picture.  How well does your voice carry?

          Friend 2: Not very, which explains why you’re always the one who has to get the waiter’s attention.

            Friend 1: Yep, it was the only way to survive get-togethers.  I suggest you bring a pen and lots of paper.

            Friend 2: We’re already here!

            Friend 1: Oh.  Well, good luck.

          (They arrive at the house; a multitude of raised voices can be heard through the windows)

            Friend 2: (Stops in the driveway) Whoa, is there a fight going on in there?

            Friend 1: Nope – just 15 simultaneous conversations.  Follow me.

            (They approach the entrance and Friend 1 holds down the doorbell until Aunt opens the door; a wave of sound and several pets cascade out)

            Aunt: HI, HAPPY EASTER!  GLAD YOU COULD MAKE IT!  COME ON IN!

            (Friend 2’s eyes are blinking in the sensory overload; Friend 1 drags Friend 2 by the shoulder into the house where they spend the next 10 minutes kissing everyone “HELLO!”)

            Friend 2: (To Friend 1’s ear) WHERE CAN I PUT MY STUFF?

            Friend 1: I’LL TAKE `EM!  IF YOU NEED ANYTHING LATER IT’LL JUST BE TOSSED ON SOMEBODY’S BED!  (Takes away their stuff)

            Cousin 1: (To Friend 2) WANT SOME SNACKS?

            Friend 2: WHAT?

            Cousin 1: SNACKS!  (Points to a table arrayed with nibbles)

            Friend 2: OH!  NO THANKS, I’M SAVING MYSELF FOR DINNER!

           Cousin 1: HA!  THAT’LL BE HOURS YET!  BETTER TAKE SOME NOW TO TIDE YOU OVER OR YOU’LL BE DYING BY THEN!

            Friend 2: Oh, all right.

            Cousin 1: WHAT?

            Friend 2: I SAID, “THANK YOU!”  (Picks at nibbles)

            (Four hours later)

          Cousin 4: AND THAT’S WHY THAT WAS THE WORST GAME IN THE HISTORY OF FOOTBALL!

          Cousin 11: I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAVE TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL TOMORROW, IT’S NOT FAIR!

            Grandmother: HAS ANYONE SEEN THE CAT LATELY?

         Friend 1: I AM ABSOLUTELY APPALLED THAT THERE STILL IS SNOW ON THE GROUND IN THE MIDDLE OF APRIL!  WHAT IS THE WORLD COMING TO?!

            Friend 2: CAN I HAVE SOME MORE WINE, PLEASE?

            Friend 1: SURE, TAKE A BOTTLE, NEARLY EVERYONE BROUGHT ONE!

      Aunt: (Appears in the kitchen entrance and speaks into a megaphone) DINNER’S READY!  EVERYBODY SIT DOWN!

            (Everyone scrambles to an age-appropriate table and digs into dinner)

        Friend 2: (To the other end of the kiddie table) COULD YOU PASS THE MASHED POTATOES, PLEASE?

         Cousin 13: THERE’S NO ROOM FOR THEM HERE, YOU’LL HAVE TO GO TO THE ADULT TABLE FOR THOSE!

            Friend 2: BUT WE’RE ALL ADULTS HERE!  EXCEPT FOR THE BABY!

            Baby Cousin: I’M NOT A BABY, I’M 8 YEARS OLD!

          Cousin 13: YEAH, WE’RE THIRD AND FOURTH GENERATION SO WE’RE STILL AT THE KIDDIE TABLE FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE!  WE ONLY ADVANCE WHEN A SPOT OPENS UP AT THE ADULT TABLE, DUE TO ABSENCE OR – (Everyone crosses themselves)

            Friend 1: (Devouring string beans) IT’S THE WAY THINGS ARE AND THE WAY THINGS HAVE ALWAYS BEEN, WORLD WITHOUT END!

            Friend 2: SO I GUESS THAT MEANS I HAVE TO WALK OVER TO THE OTHER TABLE TO GET THE MASHED POTATOES, THEN?

          Friend 1: GOT IT IN ONE!  OOH, CAN YOU GRAB SOME FOR ME TOO WHILE YOU’RE THERE?  (Holds out plate)

         Cousins 9-13 and Baby Cousin: (All hold out their plates) SOME FOR ME TOO, PLEASE?

            Friend 2: This may take a while.

            Cousins 9-13, Baby Cousin, and Friend 1: WHAT?

            (After clean-up, dessert, and second clean-up)

          Friend 1: (Settles onto a couch next to Friend 2) Ah, I’m stuffed – I don’t think I can eat another thing until tomorrow morning.

            Friend 2: Yeah, it was all so delicious.  Wait a minute – what’s going on?

            Friend 1: What?

            Friend 2: I can hear you.  And you can hear me.  And we’re not shouting in each other’s faces.

           Friend 1: Oh yeah, we’ve reached that part in the evening where at least half the crew’s left and the rest of us eventually straggle out the door.  Speaking of which, it’ll be time for us soon – it’s 8:00 already and half the state will be driving over the bridge the same time we are.

            Friend 2: (Leans back and closes eyes) In a few minutes; I want to savor this.

           Friend 1: Now that you’ve had a taste, you can be my +1 for my cousin’s wedding later this year – total of 400 guests expected right now, but there’s always room for more.

            Friend 2: Wouldn’t miss it.