It all started when I offered to buy dinner for my twin sisters' 66th birthdays May 14th. (I don't do cards or gifts.) Our father was invited to join us. My treat.
Our method of communication was email. It began simple and pleasant enough this past Monday.
Carole wanted to go to a "sports bar and restaurant" (Hoops). She likes fried catfish (she weighs 200 lbs.).
Barbara agreed, but after calling them up to ask about a vegetarian meal, she changed her mind (She weighs 95 lbs). Nothing like that was on the menu.
So we agreed on Applebees. But a friend of Barb's said they allow smoking in the bar section, and that drifts all over the restaurant. No go.
Chinese? Surely we all can find something to please everyone from the buffet table? Nope--Carole just ate there two days ago.
By this time, the "girls" (they have always been "the girls") are bitching (sorry) about each other via me. I keep telling them, "It's your birthday. Agree on a place--please!"
And while the "Main Street Pub" was "overpriced" and slow, according to Carole (she's "in the know" about every restaurant in small town Frankfort, pop 16,000), they/we finally agreed to meet there. Whew!
By now, "the girls" are barely speaking to one another, and when they do, it's snipe, snipe, snipe. Dad, Carole, and I have the special--grilled salmon (for $10 with two sides). Barb, the vegan, has a plain salad (she's a cheap "date"!). Carole's a whiner and complainer. Plus she must have said "oh?" or "oh" a bazillion times. (STOP IT, I wanted to yell!) Barb simply quit talking.
Fortunately, Dad's somewhat hard of hearing, and he tunes out conversation as he methodically digs into his food. I try to think of things to talk about with my sisters, trying to avoid controversial subjects. Certainly no religion or politics!
The service WAS slow, and the evening dragged on.
Gee, what a fun night "out on the town" . I'm already stressed out thinking about a different plan of attack for next year. I think I'll send them to the Indianapolis zoo. They would fit in just fine!