Monday, September 16, 2013

A Series of Unfortunate Events

My sister and Uncle Rico and her kids were in town this weekend because it was the annual fundraising gala my mum's fundraising organization throws in support of the hospital she raises funds for.  We don't usually go to the gala - maybe once every other year, because it's just too crazy and kind of stressful and the Dotytron hates being hungover now and (according to him) there's no point going if you can't get properly crunked.

Anyway, we usually meet up with everyone for lunch the next day, so I made us reservations at this new (to us) dim sum place, called Dragon Boat Fusion, in Markham.  By my count, I estimated that there were going to be 15 people there (including the babies), which is an unwieldy number for any restaurant.  Trying to just go out impromptu no longer works with my family.  We're just too darned big.

This is what happens when we go out for food.  I do the organizing, I do the ordering, and Bruce Wayne heckles me and the Dotytron usually jumps in and starts chirping me too, because he wants the cold shoulder later on, or something, I'm not sure what his motivations are.  

This is how things unfolded: we show up at the restaurant, it's PACKED because they do the early bird cheap dim sum thing.  We're not getting cheap dim sum, because our reservation is at 11am, when it ends (a fact my mum made a point of, even though, need I remind you again: I'M THE ONE WHO DID THE ORGANIZING, and it would be nigh on IMPOSSIBLE to get everyone there before 11am, considering some of the gang were out carousing until 3am, drinking, and slept downtown at a hotel).  I place an order, the food sloooooowly starts to trickle in.  Bruce Wayne starts giving me the gears about not having ordered enough food.  My mum (who can't hear very well) is also asking me a million questions at my elbow, about what was ordered.  The Dotytron starts giving me the gears and joining in.  I'm starting to feel stressed out, so I place a secondary order for more food.  Uncle Rico is looking extremely tired and worn.  Little Ze, is sitting there, green around the gills, with his head on the table.  "What's wrong with Little Ze?"  My sister says, "He says he's not feeling well."  

The second order is placed, Little Ze says he feels sick.  Then he says he's going to throw up and coughs up a bit of braf.  Then everyone starts shouting a million different things, I'm rooting through my diaper bag for a bag, Little Ze brafs onto a plate, and Uncle Rico's HANDS, and I finally get a bag and we dump the braf into that and he brafs some more.  Dotytron is shouting that we have to get Little Ze to the bathroom, I'm shouting back that we shouldn't move him.  Amidst all the chaos and me trying to find more bags in my diaper bag, my mum is shoving a jacket (which I thought was Little Ze's) into my hands and telling me to wipe the braf off of it.  I'm like, "I'll just stick it in a bag and we can clean it when we get home," and she hisses at me, "IT'S LEATHER!!!" and then I realize that - OF COURSE! - my mum is concerned about her own leather jacket.  LOL!  

Uncle Rico isn't eating, so we decide he should just take Little Ze home and we'll figure out how to get the rest of my sis' family back to my mum's house.  They leave.  Then the food starts coming. And coming. And coming.  At this point, some of the steamer baskets are stacked like, 5 deep.  It is INSANE.  And of course, my family being my family, we had enough food with the first round of ordering!!!  So, now I'm stressed because I'm feeling guilty about all the food we have to now deal with.  Meanwhile, we get a text from Uncle Rico that in true my sister fashion, she didn't give him the keys to my mum's house, and Big D isn't home, so they're stuck outside.  The funniest part is that when all the food is stacked on the table at it's highest, and we still  have 5 dishes to come, one of the servers comes cruising around with a plate of like, braised duck wings, and is like, "Can I interest you in this?" and all 13 of us, turn to her in unison and shout, "Noooooooooooooooo!" 

To top it off, the Dotytron, on the car ride home, gives me this talk about how, "Maybe, the next time we go to dim sum, and I don't mean this in any way to be an attack on you, and I don't want you to take it personally, we should eat the first round first and THEN order more."  AND THEN I TOOK IT HELLA PERSONALLY.  And started losing my s**t, because he was CHIRPING AT ME the same as Bruce Wayne, the ENTIRE TIME at the restaurant that I hadn't ordered enough.  And he's telling me NOT TO TAKE IT PERSONALLY?!?  This is the guy who has NEVER organized anything for our family, and the one time he did (this disastrous attempt that we call the "Huntsville Death March" - where we basically tried to - unsuccessfully - take a group of 13 people to lunch in Huntsville on a whim, coming home from the cottage), he basically almost broke down in tears.  THAT'S RICH, DOTYTRON.  REALLY RICH.  

It was hilarious.  It was epic.  It was ridiculous.  It was a series of unfortunate events.  And it basically sums up my family to a T.

Fin.

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