KABOOM (Still)

That was an excellent guess, dahling….but alas…you’re not even close. Had broccoli actually exploded anywhere within the general vicinity of my butt, I would’ve called. (Now you know, for future reference.)

As you’ve undoubtedly surmised by now, I was the final guest to arrive at my own party. I can call it a party because there was drinking, occasional dancing, some off-key singing and several candles lit…so it meets the criteria….yes?

The point is, I was late.

As usual.

KABOOM.

Jack (the Tack) claims that the longer you wait to eat, the better the food tastes. I think we finally sat down to eat at around 10pm…an ungodly hour for anyone with children, but I must admit, they wolfed that food down. Jack made chicken-something, with something-something spread over the top and it was truly delicious and very pretty…in that “I prepare food like I’m an artiste” kinda way. We ate it again for lunch the next day, so I know it was good ‘cause I wasn’t liquored up yet and we still wolfed it down...

I was in charge of the (Minute) rice and Tonia made everything else. Not surprisingly, the rice was the hit of the meal…as it was “the whitest, tastiest, best rice anyone has ever had the pleasure to consume”….that’s just what they said. I made about twenty servings worth and we consumed about half that. Oh, and "JH"? I made “Rustic Italian Bread” in my Cuisinart-baby….minus the sesame seeds, of course.

I didn’t think to take a picture, mainly because I can’t be thinking about you people all the time... I know you understand.

Connor and I created this lovely centerpiece, utilizing both the abstract candles and anything else we found around the house:

I kept waiting for someone to ask me what the numbers represented, but no-one ever did…further testament to my obvious disconnect from reality and my friends’ painful awareness of it.

Say it with me now: KABOOM.

The next day I packed....

And packed.....

And packed:


See the empty cupboard? That means I was packing.

I am already aware of the common theme of the boxes, so you may save your breath.

Anyway, you’ll hear no more talk about the broccoli….and I never mentioned how much my feet hurt from all that standing and packing, so I will simply continue. (I am not unlike the networks with their teasers...I needed a "hook" to bring you back for more....)

Sunday dawned bright and sunny with (literally) not a cloud in the sky. All was as it should be for THE PARTY OF THE SUMMER….Margarete’s blowout, don’t-wanna-miss-it Hawaiian Luau to benefit CF. (That’s cystic fibrosis. Oh, and Margarete’s handsome hubby Marc may have played a small role in throwing this shindig as well…I should mention that.)

Here’s the first thing I saw upon arrival:



Ya gotta admit….she’s serious about her Luaus. It was really BIG and really gross to look at, but it tasted like chicken and someone took home the head.

I’m kidding about the chicken part, but I’m serious about the head. (Yes, I asked. Someone took it home to eat it.)

I showed Connor a picture of it when we arrived home and he said if you zoom in really close, you can almost see a tear running down it's cheek...(that's my boy.)

Are you now ready for KABOOM?

So, when I found Margarete, she apologized for not stocking any Cloudy...(imagine!)...however, she informed us that she had another concoction for our liquid consumption…a seemingly harmless fruit-punch-type drink that had no alcohol taste to it whatsoever…with the odd name of “KABOOM”. It was in a big container with a pump-style dispenser…almost as if the people who created this drink wanted to force its guests to take it in small doses…(hmmmmm.....) as it took approximately 20 pumps to fill half a (good-sized) cup with “KABOOM”.

Margarete had placed about half a dozen warning signs on, around and about this container with words like “ALCOHOL!”, “WARNING! ALCOHOLIC DRINK!” and “DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE…SUPPORT CF!” scattered about.

After several eyerolls and about a hundred pumps, we headed off to find a place to sit, drink and take in the party.

I shall conclude this tale in the morrow….as I’m pooping out and don’t want to skimp on the remainder of this tale.

A fairytale? Maybe yes....but maybe not…