Unsuccessful Dinner

My extended family was visiting at my parents' house, and I was preparing dinner for them. I made ravioli in a vodka based tomato sauce; the bowl was dripping with oil, but I felt satisfied.

The dinner was meant to be held in the basement, and my sister was helping me take the food and plates downstairs. I carried a stack of plates that was too high, and three fell off of the stack; the plates were chipped on the corners and I didn't want to use them. I was worried that people would get cut.

It felt as if we walked up and down the stairs a million times, and I started to panic about the food getting cold, but my sister put it on a hot plate, and told me not to worry. We had drinks to think about. I grabbed two half-empty bottles of soda from the fridge (a Coca Cola and a Sprite) when my Auntie MB came in the kitchen and said, "No just water." And Christine started to fill up a Brita water container.

I kept fumbling with the plates and dropping them, but at some point I made it down to the basement with the proper amount of dinnerware. In the basement, my Uncle Morgan was sitting at the table with a cleaned plate. I was surprised that he'd already eaten. When he stood up there was a spaghetti noodle soaked in sauce in front of his plate. I picked it up and said, "Oh, you."