--DAY 2--
We're woken up by the sound of high pitched laughter. I'm roused from a pretty kick-ass Sports Night dream in which I'm producing my first show, and things are getting pretty intense. But, that's neither here nor there. Natalie goes upstairs to play with the kids and tells me I can sleep if I want to. I look at the clock- 8:15am. sigh
I clean up a bit so as not to scare the little ones, and I swear I hear a ticking noise as I look at Natalie holding little Jackie in her arms. I'm introduced (yes, for the first time) to Francesca and Harris. We all lounge around for a while watching silent television in which two men in primary-colored shirts bounce around an animated house in an attempt to teach very young children colors, or weather, or some other socially useful concept. Coffee is blissfully made, and as I sip, the very curious Harris comes up to me and asks me a few questions, giggles at my answers and then runs away, only to repeat the process a few minutes later. I'm impressed at his ability to pronounce my name correctly, and I find that all three syllables sound adorable when you lisp on the last one.
Brain takes off to go and get breakfast for us, and while he's gone, Natalie plays with the kids while Fran and I talk about general getting-to-know-you stuff.
Greasy sausage gravy over eggs arrives, and I dig into the meal like it's my job. Jackie gets to eat from her high-chair next to me, and does her best to actually put food in her mouth, a task which is ultimately negligibly successful. Fran is very patient with her, though, and I swear that ticking sound gets louder as I look over at Natalie. Harris punctuates the meal by throwing a piece of sausage at my feet and then demanding orange juice (hopefully unrelated occurances), and after breakfast there's more exaggerated television, and after a while, it's nap time for the kids. At this point, it's made very clear to me that waking the children is very bad. Like Stealing Jobu's rum kind of bad. I nod and file that information for later.
Natalie and Fran dash off to run some errands, leaving Brain and I to set up for the day's festivities: Harris' big 0-3 party. Brain and Fran have bought Harris an inflatable slide for his third birthday, and it comes with its own fan to keep it inflated. This thing is a monster:
[[Picture of the inflatable giant toy]]
Brain and I give it a test run, and we also set up some Cornholing and horseshoes. Things are going smashingly, and I should have taken that as a sign that something bad was about to happen.
The women return with groceries and ice, and Brain goes off to take a shower. The girls need help carrying the 50 lbs of ice they bought down to the coolers, so I go outside. As I turn to close the front door, the doors don't line up right. I try pulling the door shut a little more forcefully with no luck. I give it one last little tug, and the door slams shut with a force never before seen by mankind. It makes a horrible, bassy booming noise and all three of us freeze as I realize what I've done. As I wait for the bat to come flying out of the batter's hands and onto my head, Fran's eyes slowly slide to the baby monitor in her hand.
Silence...
Silence...
Nope. No such luck, Madjai. The baby wails, and my heart sinks into my stomach. I've woken the baby. Pandora's box is opened, and it's my fault. I heft the two heavier bags of ice as penance for my crimes, and Atlas-like, haul them downstairs. Fran, God bless her, comes down to help me, assuring me that it's ok, and that it's not my fault, and that she thinks it's really funny. I begin to feel a bit better, but had I known then that waking the kids was the most benign of offenses I would have commit this day, I would certainly have put myself on ice.
Things are going alright until about 2:30 when Guinevere arrives, Natalie's other sister. It's almost time for the party, and people are arriving and hanging out on the deck. On this deck, they have two ornate plant hangers, which Brain has tied balloons to. I'm standing next to one of them, and as I turn to walk away, my hip hits it, and it snaps off from the deck. I'm standing there holding this hanger with the balloons still floating from it, and people start laughing. Now, I'm told that either Fran or Guin has done this before, and someone points at where the third hanger used to be. Sure enough, there's the base of the hanger still screwed to the deck. Somehow, that fails to make me feel any better.
The rest of the afternoon is lazy, most filled with me being not terrible at cornholing or horseshoeing, getting to know everyone and such regular party activites. I even spend one game of Horseshoes standing next to Dad, who is warming up to me... which is very relieving. I make my way back up the deck to chat with Mom and some of Natalie's cousins, and I'm not up there for five minutes when I proceed to break the OTHER HANGER. I'm not kidding. This could not have been written any worse. In my extreme shame, I don't even bother explaining. I just literally run inside, and close the door to the guest room. It takes about 10 minutes for Natalie to come and find me, and even she can't help from laughing. She cajoles me into rejoining the party, but I'm not ready to go back out there yet. We decide to play a quick game of darts to re-establish my confidence. Naturally, I jump out to an early and decisive lead, and with two quick LUCKY darts, Natalie takes me down. Great. Awesome. Fantastic. Super.
Slowly, the day manages to get less surreal. Natalie catches a delicious bluegill, but had already sent me inside to get her wine, so I missed it. More games, more drinking, and more fun occur. Sooner or later, we're sitting around playing Balderdash, and the drunker we get, the more fun it is. Some highlights from this game:
- Tzizit - What your wife does to your tie.
- What can't two people do in South Carolina at the same time? Ride a tandem bike
- Misspelling the name of the person you're trying to lie about isn't very convincing.
- Natalie should NEVER, EVER be trusted to read everyone's sheets with the same amount of composure.
Finally, only the Die-Hards are left, and we decide to play poker. Yes, please. The game drags on for a while, and in an attempt to get it done with and go to bed (It's 3am)... Folks, you heard it here first: I cheat. I cheat so hard. I'm talking looking through the deck to find the card I want kind of cheating. I feel less bad about it, because no one is paying enough attention to catch me.
Brain gets the mega-sweet idea to start doing shots. He pours a shot, and you have to toast with it. The toasts go around, and we all shoot this.. look.. I'm trying to find the words to describe this liquid. Here's what I got:
Imagine taking the blood of a demon and mixing it with the sweat of a maggot, fermenting it in barrels of wormwood while those barrels are smoked in the breath of the whore of Babylon. Then, once this diabolical concoction is prepared, pour it into a dirty sink pipe and serve over razor blades.
It's something like that.
Needless to say, the night takes a downward turn after this, and it's about an hour later that Natalie has passed out fully clothed, and I plug in her cell phone and turn in myself. It's 4AM, and I don't know it, but I'm getting up in four hours...
2 comments:
How amazing! I'm glad you had an interesting? and wonderful trip!
-1 point: We were woken up at 7:10am on Saturday morning.
-1 point: Though it made for more dramatic storytelling, my sister was not holding a baby monitor. We heard her crying through her bedroom window.
My sister isn't so responsible that she carries a monitor around 24/7.
-1 point: For not telling the world about the toast I made.
+2 points: For not telling the world the mean name I called you later.
-1 point: For cheating.
+2 points: For putting up with my cousins, and having to listen to Brain sing Boyz 2 Men.
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