crazy mixed up family stuff

This year my dad's birthday coincided with President's Day.  Can I tell you it was a disaster?

My sisters planned a lovely dinner to honor my father.  Asked me to pick up a bottle of champagne and make a stop at the bakery, which I did.  Dortoni, the Italian bakery by Drew's house, does a beautiful French cheesecake with a luscious fruit topping, and I also picked up a raspberry mousse cake.


And they would do everything else.  Except that they didn't shop for the ingredients for the lovely dinner until 4:00 Monday afternoon.  Didn't start cooking until almost 6:00.   I don't know what went on in that kitchen, I walked out when H burned the garlic and shallots and had a major meltdown.

The menu was supposed to include a Tuscan vegetable soup, garlic bread, penne a la vodka and chicken marsala.  Except that when we sat down to eat, sometime after 10:30, they hadn't yet made the marsala.

And then came the drama. 

I don't say anything because I know what would happen if I did.  Even though I bought the champagne, the cakes, and a good deal of the groceries, I'm likely to hear the old refrain that I "don't contribute anything". 

But Becca...She'd come out to the house for the day, had class the following day.  She had a meltdown, and honestly, I don't blame her.  Jen wound up driving her back to school, and neither of them had any dinner. 

I suspect the family had birthday cake when Jen came home.  I wouldn't know, I went to bed around 12:30.

My father had a good time, though.  He enjoyed the food and the wine, and he was reminiscing about the trip he took to Paris with my mother many years ago. 

And I think that's the bottom line.  When you're 87 years old, you deserve to enjoy your birthday.

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