Scrambled Easter Eggs

All apologies for the delay between posts, but I was trying to determine how to tell you about Easter. Not in a holy-roller, Kum-ba-yah sort of way, but in a how-do-I-not-get-kicked-out-of-wills sort of way. But Husband says I should just let the chips fall where they may. So here goes.

Easter is always at Aunt's house, which is awesome because her in-laws are Polish and that means kielbasa. Hot or mild, with horseradish for good measure. Upon arrival, I offered my help to Aunt, but she's a rock star in the kitchen, and I'm not. So when she turned me down, I retired to the living room with the rest of my family.

Now, Aunt's mother-in-law is a dear, 96 year old firecracker. Recently moved into assisted living, she pulls no punches and suffers no fools. She will not hesitate to tell you where you're wrong, or what you should be doing. It behooves you to listen to her. She left Poland before there was such a thing as the Berlin Wall or fifty states, and she's buried more people than you probably know. Plus, respect your elders, you know? It won't kill you.

So I was not surprised when she pointed out that Brother's fiancee and I should be helping in the kitchen because, as she points out, we're young. And - I'm paraphrasing here - we have vaginas, which somehow makes us better suited to the kitchen than our bepenised counterparts. Leaving the kids to the men (which is probably wrong, in the old country), we hopped to. I'm not about to cross a nonagenarian Polish emigre, even if she does way 87 pounds. Probably especially because. She would totally kick my ass, and I'd never be able to show my face for kielbasa again.

Settling down to dinner, Aunt and my cousin, Sister Beta, delve into Sister Beta's sinus problems. This has been a problem for years, requiring surgery, medications, and specialists. Nothing has helped, and Sister Beta spends a lot of time suffering from congestion and pain. Recently, they began seeing an acupuncturist. The acupuncturist hooked Sister Beta to a computer. Then, the acupuncturist said a series of food items. Milk, bread, etc. If Sister Beta lost muscle tone in her arm when a food was stated,  it indicated she was sensitive to this food. Read that again. You didn't misunderstand me.

Now, I get this. When you've tried everything to no avail, you'll try anything. And while I may not agree with the method, if eliminating certain foods helps, I'm all in. So I sit quietly and listen. But Husband, as we've said, has not lost his German roots. He turns to me.

"I'm sorry," he says.

Then he turns to Aunt.

"That is the craziest thing I have ever heard," he asserts. "That is not scientifically sound." Germans don't speak with a lot of inflection. They're a pragmatic people.

He would have gone on, but we were interrupted by a late guest.

In walks Cousin2. A word about Cousin2. We love each other to death. He's 10 years older than me, but he's always been good to me, even when he was a teenager and I was a tagalong. He's also been to prison. This is not a secret. He, my family, myself. We discuss it openly. His crime was victimless, unless you consider him. He has no malice. Watch Orange is the new Black. You'll get it.

Aunt asks after Cousin2's health. His mother died quite young of a heart problem. How is his heart? she wants to know. Does he get it checked? Cousin2 assures us that his heart is great. When he was in Graterford, the prison system wanted to transfer him to a jail in Erie. He was having none of that. So he developed chest pain. Full cardiac evaluation. All clear. Aunt can rest easy.

My dad claps Husband on the shoulder. "Should have gotten out while you still could," he mutters. Husband still isn't sure if he meant Easter dinner or our marriage.

Let the chips fall.