I work in freelance content marketing, mostly from home, and Nick’s a systems engineer who can fix anything except awkward family dinners. And trust me, his side of the family is basically a four-course meal of awkwardness.
His mom, Laura, is…
Anyway, two weeks ago, we were “invited” to her birthday dinner.
And by invited, I mean she called Nick a week ahead and said, “You two are responsible for bringing the food and drinks. The birthday girl shouldn’t have to lift a finger.”
Nick rolled his eyes on the call but said we’d be there. I figured she’d at least provide the cake, but no, she specifically requested a custom lemon lavender cake from a boutique bakery across town.
I had to order it three days in advance, and it wasn’t cheap.
I remember staring at the order form, wondering how a birthday could already feel more like a chore than a celebration.
So there we were: three casserole dishes, a cooler full of drinks, and a cake that smelled like a fancy candle shop. We also brought her birthday gift, a 55-inch Samsung flat-screen TV that had been on sale. It was a joint present from us, Nick’s sister Dani, and her fiancé, Marcus.
We arrived at 5:30 p.m., right on time.
Laura opened the door, barely glanced at the cake, then looked at the TV box and said, “Oh… I thought you were getting me the 110-inch one. I guess this’ll do.”
