Grandma Zella looks a bit too innocent here. She's just made her grown daughters guffaw so hard they are spewing Big-K Diet Cola from their noses. Not a pretty sight, I tell ya'.
But I digress. Mothers' Day started innocently enough. The spawn camped on the sofa communicating in their secret sibling language.
Joe and Zella start off behaving their age, you know, dignified. Their daughter (my wife) wisely keeps the spawn under constant observation.
The cooks tried to conceal their identity. I mean: Hamburgers for Mothers' Day, are you kidding?
Somebody rang the dinner bell.
And that Wizard of Oz color thing happened. We had deviled eggs, corn, potatoes, asparagus...
In this family you'd better keep moving in the buffet line. Zella was creating space with her elbows around the catchup.
Things were deceptively quiet for a few "don't talk with your mouth full" minutes.
In no time the spawn and their mom were warming up their laughing muscles.
Everybody was feeling good. It's nice on the porch. The big table lets everyone talk with each other. We served 9 and could have done 12 with plenty of room.
The stories began.
Now we had to do penance for serving burgers on Mothers' Day: Sundaes.
Here is Rachel's guest, Nick, between the sisters. As a dad of daughters I can appreciate his expression: Sundaes are serious business for the sisters. One false move or word from Nick could be disastrous (for Nick). And will somebody please move the ketchup?
We held our breaths as the masters did their work.
It was over all too soon.
It was exciting and sentimental out there for a while. Our outdoor room went back into hibernation having excelled as a backdrop for family memories.
I'm a bit sad that it's over.
But there always Father Day on June 21.
Happy Mothers' Day and thanks,
Terry