Never go to a tattoo artist if bad luck is following you

𝟬𝟵 | 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗾𝘂𝗲 𝗺𝗶 𝗰𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗮!

If there's one thing I love about Sunday lunch, it's my mom's lasagna. Every Sunday, like a damn tradition.

Sure, it's delicious, and she cooks well, but after eating it every week, you eventually can't even look at it without losing your appetite.

My mom seems to get high on cocaine and hallucinogens every Sunday.

She has this obsession with inviting different relatives for lunch each time, and because of this, she's incredibly hyper. Today, she's even more so because she decided to invite all her siblings and my dad's siblings, and all four grandparents, to announce the news of the upcoming baby.

Some lunches only happen at Christmas and Easter, and we're such a dysfunctional family that they usually end in disaster.

My two grandfathers always drink a bit too much wine, and end up singing and dancing to the latest summer hits in the living room. More than once, the police have shown up, called by the neighbors, for disturbing the peace.

So, boring it is not.

Not to mention my dad's two single sisters who hate each other with a passion and always argue about who has a more active sex life, ending up pulling hair or shoes, as long as my dad allows it as long as they don't throw household objects.

I feel my phone vibrating and see a message from my cousin Jace, one of the unfortunate relatives who will endure this lunch.

Jace: Big lunch at your place today, huh? What are we celebrating?

Brianna: Oh, didn't your parents tell you? They've decided to put you up for adoption, so that's what we're celebrating. Happy?

Jace: Hahaha. As charming as Aunt Mary with her awful desserts she tries to convince us to eat.

Brianna: I think she wants us dead.

Jace: Probably. And today will be just like that.

Brianna: Oh God, we're all going to die.

I laugh reading our exchange.

Aunt Mary is... a very unique woman. She cooks well. All her dishes are great, except the desserts. She's really awful at those. Once, she brought a cake that was completely raw inside. She tried to convince us that it was meant to be that way and to eat it because it was good. And through all this, she never lost her smile.

Very unsettling.

I hear the doorbell ring, signaling that this torture is about to begin.

I open the door. Aunt Annie and Uncle Mark are there, with their son, my cousin Jace, and Aunt Sasha is also there.

Uncle Mark is my mom's brother, and Aunt Sasha is one of my dad's sisters.

Aunt Sasha speaks first. "Hi, dear, where's your Aunt Wendy? I absolutely have to tell her about the fantastic romp I had this morning." She peeks her head inside the house, looking for her sister.

"Oh, I'm glad you care so much about the cleanliness of your house, Aunt." I smile in her direction, and she enters the house looking offended.

After greeting me, the other relatives come inside.

Jace approaches me. "True that after lunch we're going to your room to watch a movie?" His look is hopeful.

I sigh. "Sorry, but Dad cut off the Wi-Fi, so we'll be spending the afternoon with the relatives," I say, defeated. "Get ready for suicide." I let him in and close the door behind him.

"Oh, I'll drink more wine than Grandpa Carl, hoping to end up in a coma from alcohol poisoning," he replies.

The doorbell rings again, and I go to open it. "Hi Grandma Maria, Grandpa Carl, Grandma Verah, Grandpa Sean," I greet them.

I notice Grandpa Carl has two packs of beer in his hands, and Grandpa Sean has a pack of wine. Not bottles, whole packs.

Jace comes to my side. "Oh, I see you brought the alcohol," he murmurs.

"How do you think we tolerate our wives, boy!" Grandpa Sean exclaims.

Carl smiles, raising the beers. "With alcohol!"

I close the door after they've entered.

Only Aunt Mary and Aunt Wendy are left, who arrive half an hour late.

I turn the key in the lock, but even before I can open the door, Aunt Wendy flings it open, shouting. "Sorry for the delay, a man kept me between the sheets. He wouldn't let me go."

She says this while walking as if on a fashion show, glaring at Aunt Sasha defiantly.

They're two lost causes. Not that I'm any better.

I roll my eyes and go to greet Aunt Mary. Unfortunately, she doesn't even let me speak before rushing into the kitchen. "I brought the dessert!"

I slam the front door shut, irritated. "It's so obvious they're sisters. Neither of them ever lets me finish talking. Always interrupting people."

I hear a shout from my mom. "It's ready!"

Let the torture begin.

⸻ ❝ ❞ ⸻

"What flavor did you say this cake was, Mary?" Uncle Mark asks, puzzled.

"Chocolate," Aunt Mary replies, beaming with pride.

"White chocolate?" Dad asks.

Mary looks at him confused. "No, it's dark chocolate."

Jace looks at her, puzzled. "But the cake is white," he murmurs.

"Um, Aunt Mary? Are you sure you put in the chocolate?" I ask her.

"Uh, I think I made a chocolate cake but without the chocolate."

I mutter a "don't tell me."

After eating the ice cream Grandma Verah brought, knowing what was coming, we move to the living room.

Grandpa Sean and Grandpa Carl each have a beer in hand. They drink the last sips in one go and start shouting, "It's party time, people!"

My grandfathers are strange and unique, starting with the fact that they use a touchscreen phone better than I do.

They start playing the base of a Spanish song that's very popular this summer, and begin singing.

Destaca cuando anda

Va causando impresiónCada día cuando levantaBrilla como el sol

They start singing the first verse of La Cintura by Álvaro Soler.

Jace and I take a lot of videos, and when the chorus starts, we all sing the line "Porque mi cintura."

When the song ends, my mom stands up on the couch and everyone turns to her. "I'm pregnant!" she shouts.

Everyone goes silent, then Grandpa Carl and Grandpa Sean pop open a bottle of champagne from who knows where. You hear a pop from the cork being removed and then their shouts, "Let's celebrate with alcohol!"

As if they hadn't been drinking enough already.