From the diary of Griselda Vargas-Beilschmidt

3

The new year started off like any other day. With my cat Mitzi loudly requesting to be fed right next to my ear, as she does every. Single. Day. It has become my wake-up call by now.

So I went downstairs, finding the aftermath of a very...uh, wild New year celebration party. Read: total devastation. You'd think a tornado has flown through our house. And as much as Vati and Uncle Gilbert like tidiness, this is one of the times they don't give a damn about it. Sleeping.

As I opened a can of cat food and put it on a bowl that read "Blackie" (Mitzi has confiscated it for herself the very first day we got her), I looked around. What did I see?

- Two of the dogs sleeping soundly. Berlitz has opened one eye, and closed it again upon seeing me and not some sort of a buglar.

- Bottles of alcohol on the table (emptied)

- Some leftover food

- A suspicious green spot on the curtain (I hope it's not vomit)

- One ball of a cousin curled up under a blanket under the table. After checking he's alive (by lightly kicking him - he snored) I went to see what's up in the living room.

Oh boy, the living room. France and Uncle Gilbert were sleeping on the floor, only half dressed. Around them were laying several cards. A little game of strip poker, perhaps?

More empty bottles. Confetti everywhere. Snoring England on the couch with Aster curled in his lap. Aster is the youngest of the dogs and the friendliest one, too. She's an "attention-whore", in the words of my dearest cousin. I should probably take some pictures of him, right?

George -or, as he likes to call himself "The mighty La Manche"- was in a truly weird position, laying on his back, one arm around the flower pot, the other holding an empty bottle, one of his long legs on a pillow for some reason. Also he had some weird purple gel in his hair...? I don't even know. I took a picture later.

Papa and Vati were laying on the couch tangled in each other's arms, which was freaking adorable so I just had to make multiple pictures of that, too.

Wait... where were Uncle Spain and Romano? And why the heck was the bathroom door locked? ...oh. You know what, I don't want to know. Or see it. Especially see it.

Poor Gabriel. He doesen't really cope well with seeing his parents get all.. snuggly? Is that the word? ...you get me, right? But to his dislike, Uncle Spain's just an affectionate person. Gabe's just not. I mean- he's okay with physical contact, he just doesen't necesserily need to watch his parents...kiss....or anything...And Uncle Romano gets all embarrased and Gabe will yell "GET A ROOM, IDIOTAS!"

My parents just...don't do that in public. Like, Papa is affectionate 24/7, but Vati just wants to be a professional and everything (especially on world meetings and such). I don't really mind it like Gabe. I think it's cute that after all those years they're still in love just as much.

Also I love watching Papa trying to steal a kiss or something while Vati is working.

Where was I? Oh, right. So when the first person (Gabriel) woke up about an hour later, we fed the dogs, let them in the garden and made ourselves some breakfast (leftovers). Then we cleaned up a bit (the green spot was thankfully just a mashed avocado) and played poker (I won 3 cookies) until the second person (George) was sober enough to burst through the door, requesting immediate painkillers. He then proceeded to drink about 2 litres of water before going back to his slumber.

He didn't even notice the purple slime in his hair. I asked Gabe about it. He gave me a smug smile before answering "It's the filling from a purple sparkly marker." See this? This is why I always made sure I was asleep after him on every slumber party ever.

When the others started to sober up I heard Vati mumbling "I'm never letting Feliciano drink vodka again." And Russia wasn't even there.