Cliffhanger, huh? Or maybe not, if you aren’t even getting these letter. I mean, now you do have an actual excuse: I’m sending them from my grandmother’s house, so maybe the mailman realized your discomfort and decided to burn my pleas for happiness.
Either way, I’ll go on.
So, while John went to the hospital, my aunt happened to arrive with her boyfriend, one of the therapists from her “vacation or something.” Oh, it was more than hilarious when they arrived, dressed in matching blue outfits, holding a bottle of champagne.
Auntie: Hi!
Theraperson: I’m Todd.
It rhymed with odd. Ha.
Naomi: Gran’s at the hospital.
Auntie: What? Oh my god, what happened? Is she okay?
Me:
Naomi:
Mom: my daughter smashed the only vodka bottle in the house on John’s balls.
Everyone:
Auntie: Oh.
At this, she and Odd-Todd shared a look, as though, together, they were analyzing what a broken case all of us were. But then, in unison, the two turned and gave us pleading smiles.
Odd-Todd: well, let’s turn this night around.
And that, Serenity, is exactly what they didn’t do.
