Diseaster

Any holiday my Dad is out to sea inevitably brings chaos; like Christmas-tree-falling-over-Christmas-morning chaos. Perhaps it is just a coincidence, but I am more inclined to believe that the energy of we four women (me, mom, middle sister, little sister) is bloody radioactive and just throws the cosmic universe for a loop. This weekend was no different.

Saturday we trucked out to Mechanicsburg for my cousin Megan's bridal shower. As much as I love Megan, I hate bridal showers, and I really hate driving two hours on my day off for bridal showers. However two Kaiser Chief CDs and one carsick sister later we arrived, Ooo'd and Ahh'd appropriately over cake pans and dishes, and returned home. Then Jared (who has been in training for the JAG test for months) broke his ankle in the middle of a run. So to Philly I drove to deliver chocolate to my hurt, miserable boyfriend.

Sunday the Easter Bunny brought Godiva which was pretty fabulous. But then I had to go to work (booooo) and deal with grumpy managers and customers who thought it was a "sin" to tax a Bible. Shortly thereafter Grandmom wound up in the hospital, so frantic phone calls were exchanged all afternoon between family members. Amidst the chaos Rosie (dog from hell) managed to climb onto the dining room table and eat an entire Angel Food cake. Family collectively shouts expletives. Middle sister is cursed for bringing the beast home. Rosie throws-up entire Angel Food cake. By the end of the evening, all messes (both human and otherwise) were cleaned up, Grandmom was sent home, and we ladies plopped down on the couch to watch Easter Parade and decide Easter will be renamed Diseaster... just as Rosie goes for the Godiva.

There really is no place like home.