Who's on First? and Labor Day Pains

I lived through the birthday party I threw for my nephew, but barely. It was the holiday weekend, but I sure couldn’t tell it. From the continual charges of being “weird” for doing such things as taking too many small bites from one square of watermelon--What the heck!—to being told by my brother-in-law that I have too much “shit” in my refrigerator (half of which was there for his son’s birthday) the event eventually wore me down. I love my family, but after such a visit, I understand my nature to be a lone wolf.

Jack, poor guy, spent half the day blowing up the five dozen happy face beach balls and other assorted dirigibles with his air compressor. I called to tell everyone to come over in about ten minutes when he started calling the balls “Sons of bitches!” which meant he was probably almost finished with the lot. “At least he’s in a party mood,” said sister Jennifer.

“As close as it gets,” I replied.

There was the cake, the splashing, the arguments between brothers and nephews, the sun, the bugs, the icing everywhere, the pizza everywhere else, the ripping open of the presents, yada, yada, yada. It all ended with a dinner at a local Italian restaurant where everyone tried to figure out the bill after vast wine consumption. (Poor waitress, but at least we all tip well.)

For some reason, I have so many pairs of men’s swim trunks in my home you’d think I was running a brothel, but with the teenagers and the nephews, who knows where they come from? I acquired some new suits this weekend that no one would claim, but let’s not discuss the Bermuda Clothes Triangle that is our family. My sister once actually found one of my bras in the pocket of her winter coat. What happened there?!

Anyway, both of my sisters had originally told me that they were bringing an additional guest: Lynn’s friend, Renee, and Jennifer’s, Michele. Lynn and family arrived sans Renee, and Lynn told me she wasn’t coming. Jack then called out to us from the other side of the pool, “Stephanie isn’t coming!”

“Who?” I asked.

“Stephanie isn’t coming,” he repeated.

Me (to Lynn): “I don’t know a Stephanie.”

Lynn (calling to Jack): “Do you mean Renee?”

Jack: “Yeah, your friend Renee.”

Lynn (snidely) to me: Yeah, after all Renee sounds so much like Stephanie.

Hours later, everyone is here, but Jennifer had told me previously that Michele was coming by after attending a wedding. Finally, I figure we are going to have to start the birthday festivities.

“So when is Michele going to get here?” I ask Jennifer.

“Didn’t Jack tell you that she isn’t coming?” Jennifer asks. “I called him and told him to tell you!”

Jack saunters by. “Why didn’t you tell Gail that Michele wasn’t coming?” she asks him.

“I did! Remember, I said ‘Stephanie isn’t coming,’” he says to me.

“I keep telling you to not let him answer the phone!” Jennifer admonishes.

“I do my best,” I answer.