It’s Like An Angel Sighing

Miss Sasha: Mommy! I’m driving around Pennsylvania and Monday gave me jobs to do!
Tata: I’m sorry I changed Monday’s damn diapers…
Miss Sasha: What?
Tata: Nothing!
Miss Sasha: Okay, so did you leave the house yet?

I hold the receiver away from my head for a moment. Just to stare.

Tata: Sweetheart, you called my house.
Miss Sasha: I did! I’m so confused! It’s my job to make all the family phone calls.
Tata: Are you driving on – you know – actual roads? In a car?
Miss Sasha: Yes, I’ve got an ear thing.
Tata: Aha. So…why did you call me?
Miss Sasha: The wedding’s at 7 and the shuttle leaves the Courtyard at 5:45.
Tata: I’m not staying at the Courtyard. Does the shuttle stop at my hotel?
Miss Sasha: I’ll call you back!

Ten minutes pass. An hour. Two hours. I go out walking and running. When I get back, there’s a message.

Miss Sasha: Call me back! I have the information.

Fantastic. One phone call and I can be totally informed and confident of my ability to embarrass my family in a timely manner. I get voicemail.

Tata: Sweetheart, if you don’t call me back I’ll stalk my hotel’s bartender for gin and a straw!

It’s just the kind of threat she understands. She knows I’ll use a disposable camera to chronicle Paulie Gonzalez’s and my disreputable public adventures. And we have a blog! Hands up – who’s nervous? Even so, I call her on Paulie’s cell, because I don’t have one. The first time.

Tata: Miss Sasha, this is your mother –
Voice: Hello?

And CLICK! The second.

Tata: Hello?
Voice: Sasha’s not here right now. Can I take a message?
Tata: This is her mother –

And CLICK! What the hell? The third.

Tata: Hello?
Miss Sasha: Mommy!
Tata: The last two times I called someone hung up on me. Just tell me what I need to know and we can get on with this inspiring debacle. We just arrived and don’t stand a chance in Hell of making that 5:45 shuttle.
Miss Sasha: Take the 6:30. Aunt Daria has a portable closet full of clothing for you.
Tata: Too late for that. I brought a ghastly outfit and I’ll suck it up and wear it.
Miss Sasha: You’ll…what?

As I hang up, Paulie looks shocked, too. Sure, I’m vain but we’re on a hard deadline and if I’m not careful I’ll cave and track down Daria’s closet, which will cause us to miss the ceremony. In a moment of panic, I turn to Paulie and gasp.

Tata: Next time I get the bright idea we should go to an out of state wedding, let’s rent a hotel room, a ska band and five gallons of matzoh ball soup.
Paulie: With sushi and a UN translator, we could rule the world.
Tata: I’ll settle for surviving the cocktail hour without a subpoena.

Damn it, I hate weddings!

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