Saturday, July 17, 2010

Please don't eat my children

When I picked up my little sister at the train station today, she did mention that she was hungry. I just didn't realize how famished the poor girl was until her second cup of coffee. Oddly enough, it only took Peter one cup to get as wired as Vena. Please don't eat my first born.

David had already fallen in love with Vena on her last trip, but this time she was wearing a RED shirt and, by the looks of things, she was sharing her brownies from the dorm.

As Vena and David bonded, Tom showed off his new theatrical piece.

It was a cliff-hanger that Tom self-described as 'I no fall water', whereby the mattress was the water and the side of our bed was the edge that he was clinging onto for dear life. Vena and David meandered by at some point but they seemed generally disinterested and subsequently disappeared into the kitchen giggling something about having the munchies. Dude, where's my brownie?.

For Tommy's next desperate attempt at getting attention, he dug deep into Papa's bag of party tricks.

I guess I can be lucky that he didn't don a lamp shade. Even so, Vena yawned and I'm pretty sure it had nothing to do with Tommy's amazing tricks. It probably had more to do with the 14 hour train ride she had taken from Austria just to be with us. She's doing some musical concert-thingy there and chose to sacrifice her only free weekend to be with us for two days. The whole thing wouldn't have seemed so strange if it weren't for the fact that she has already met my family and voluntarily chosen to return.

I tried my best to get Vena completely hammered the first night, but after her last trip, I can blame neither her liver nor her head for resisting. My camera was thrilled, but that's a different blog altogether.

In short - it was a short night. Vena crashed in David's bed, which he abso-freakin-lutely loved. Not so much because Vena got to sleep in his bed (which, by the way, would scare the ever-loving shit out of anyone that really knows David), but because it meant that he had a good enough excuse to sleep with Mama and Papa.

After a night of fending off wild elbow-swings and karate-kicks, I kicked David out of our bed and commanded him to go and politely jump on Vena's head. For a change, he followed my directions.

For Vena's third breakfast, we decided to gobble down cones at our local ice-cream joint. My belly hates you.

David is a fast learner. He proved this point at the playground by trying to eat a soccer ball. I hope you're happy with yourself, Vean-bean.

Vena wasn't happy. She was hungry, and she had a major brain fart when it came ordering lunch.

See, when Vena was just a wee baby, I was tasked with watching the poop-pouch. For years, Christine and I babysat her, so I was at least partly responsible for molding her into the freak that everyone now knows and loves. One of the more memorable bonding moments was when I declared to the then two-year old Vena that she smelled like soup.

'No soup smell!'

'Yes, you do. Sorry. It's like a beef vegetable soup.'

'No soup! No beef. You beef! Me no vebatable!'

The sad thing is, Vena is almost as unintelligible now as she was when she was two. At least she was able (mentally) to compete with Peter in battle of the wits.

I honestly did not know whether I should explain to Peter that it's impolite to laugh at people during a backgammon game or join him. Since he was already kicking Vena's ass and she looked like she was about to cry, I opted for taking a picture. Of course afterwards, I cackled like a madman and pointed fingers at her, but it's not really my fault if she's crap at rolling dice. Is it?

I guess it is, if you ask Angie, but why the hell would you voluntarily do something so silly? Doesn't matter, I don't even care. The point is that Angie thought I should go and do something with my sister. I tried to point out that watching Peter humiliate my siblings was 'something' and that I was quite enjoying myself. Not surprisingly, Angie's logic starting beating the crap out of mine and soon we were on our way outside. To do something. Somewhere.

Not that I expect it, but if you've been paying attention to the central theme here, it's probably no surprise that we went to a restaurant. To eat. Again.

Man, I love this picture! David is so obviously in love with my sister. If we can ignore the sick, twisted implications of such overtures, it's cute. Right?

Toward the end, I got a little worried that Vena might crank open her 'jaws of hunger' again and gobble up poor Davey, but for some reason, she showed restraint. It may have been the fact that I had a camera and was busy snapping away potentially incriminating evidence. Or maybe it was that I screaming 'please don't eat my second born' in the crowded restaurant. Hey, wait a minute, that's what it was - witnesses.
Ladder Talk:
1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I win by the bat gammon.
David: When we was by the Chinese with your sister.

2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When I can't watch my show because I eat too slow.
David: When I couldn't throw or hit you on the head 'cause you so crazy.

3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To play with that what I built.
David: When tomorrow comes and boom - Dalia is here.

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