A Face That Shows What She Knows

Miss Sasha has been calling me two and three times a day for over a week.

Miss Sasha: Mommy! My in-laws have been here twenty-four hours and I already have stories to tell you.
Tata: Sweetheart, you’re not really good at this yet. The people you’re talking about are standing right next to you, aren’t they? Scream, “OH MY VAGINA!” and call me from your bathroom.
Miss Sasha: We just came back from New Orleans and all Mr. Sasha’s father can say is, “…fucking unbelievable…”
Tata: Does he have any actual thoughts or – this is a stretch – feelings?
Miss Sasha: Not yet. Or anytime soon. He paces around grumbling, “…fucking unbelievable…”

She called to ask about my grandmother’s holiday menus. She called to ask how my grandmother composed salads. She called half-way through Thanksgiving dinner to describe appetizers in minute detail. I could tell she was pleased and perplexed because she didn’t realize she was shouting at the tops of her delightful lungs. As the days of the visit passed, the calls became more bizarre.

Miss Sasha: What are you doing?
Tata: Uh – nothing!
Miss Sasha: You’re grounded, young lady. We’re going out to a bar. I’ll call you when we get thrown out. Love you!
Tata: Love you, sweetie! Say hi to the bouncers!

I like Mr. Sasha, and hope he continues to like my delicate daughter a whole bunch because the prospect of her divorcing him and moving back to New Jersey fills me with adorable terror. So in a way, it’s her or me.

Tata: Darling, whatever you do, don’t poison your terrible in-laws.
Miss Sasha: Why?
Tata: I must destroy my archenemy, the Mother of the Groom, myself. A gal can’t outsource that!
Miss Sasha: Last night, we were in a bar and on the TV was that Michael Richards thing and my father-in-law was good and drunk and he shouted, “Whaddya want, you’re Black!” and the whole bar went silent. That was when I noticed that bar was wall-to-wall white people.
Tata: Well, except for your husband, your mother-in-law and, technically, you.
Miss Sasha: I’m just sayin’.


It’s ON.

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