Don’t Go Out the Back Door

Some months ago.

Miss Sasha: We’re having ‘Panky christened in August.
Tata: In a church? Like, splashy-splashy, scrub off the original sin?
Miss Sasha: Yes, and then we’re having a luau at Dad’s house.
Tata: You’re serving roast pig to old Jews on a Catholic occasion and setting it to soothing hula music?
Miss Sasha: When you put it that way…
Tata: Lightning’s bound to strike. I’ll go roller skate under an antenna in some other town.


Daria: You’re going.
Tata: I’m not going.
Daria: You’re going.
Tata: Nope. Not going!


Tata: Dude, I can’t go.
Minstrel Boy: It ain’t about you. Zip yer lip and go.
Tata: Thanks for setting me straight, cowboy – as straight as I get, anyhow.
MB: Well, gotta mosey off into the sunset, fight crime and mix metaphors. Burr whisk, away!


Daria: You’re going.
Tata: Maybe.
Daria: You’re going.
Tata: Maybe. Man, I’m sick of talking about this.

After that.

Tata: I cannot in good conscience spend my whole week fighting the homophobic and anti-choice rhetoric and violence of the church and show up on Sunday in a grass skirt. Hey, did you know I could say the words in good conscience without laughing hysterically?
Miss Sasha: Fine. Wear your coconut bra to the party. I know you have one.


Miss Sasha: I have potentially upsetting news.
Tata: I’m still the black sheep of an increasingly angry family?
Miss Sasha: My biological father’s coming on Sunday.
Tata: Who knew that black sheep came blacker? Because there’s one now.


Tata: I thought you were staying in Cape Cod and coping with a plumbing disaster.
Mom: If he goes to the christening tomorrow I’m not going.
Tata: Have you made this declaration to Miss Sasha?
Mom: Not yet. If I call now it’ll ruin dinner.
Tata: …Whereas if you wait, you can wreck her entire evening! I’ll have to try that next time.

You will no doubt be pleased to hear that no one was killed in the baptizing of this baby.

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