We already screwed up Easter...

...And its only Good Friday
   Our cousin Francesca was nice (and crazy) enough to invite the Galatiotos to her house this Easter Sunday. With all of our antics (well Nonna's) my mom Marcy just keeps saying, "that poor girl is never going to invite us over there ever again!" If she is smart she won't. We have a way of taking a nice day and whirl winding it into a maniacal affair. And its all Nonna's fault.
    Fra sent out this huge Sicilian menu. I am stoked! And there are a lot of people coming, so we are each assigned a menu item and have been instructed to bring our own chair. Easy enough, right? Not when you throw an 89 year old Sicilian lady in the mix, who may not be up to the task, but will feel the weight of God on her soul if she does not make the lasagna. Lasagna is not easy and every holiday Nonna looks like she is about to keel over after she makes it. We all tell her not to make it but secretly want her to because its so good. So of course, for Easter Nonna says, "No! I'm gonna makeh the lasagna!" 
    Marcy: "Mama, its too much work."
    Rocco: "Ma, don't make the lasagna."
    Nonna: "No! I'm gonna makeh the lasagna."
   A call to Francesca, "Nonna is making the lasagna." Fra so graciously accepts the offer. Probably a relief because its such a pain, to boil that slippery pasta, then make the meat sauce, layer it all together and don't forget the bechamel sauce. 
    Then Nonna's crazy switch goes off, "No! I don't wanna makeh the lasagna."
    There is no explanation. We don't get it. Marcy is so embarrassed that I get a call. 
    My response, "Fra doesn't care. Just tell her Nonna is old and crazy!"
    "Jen, can you text Fra that Nonna doesn't want to make the lasagna."
    This is how my parents get out of it because they supposedly cannot text. I mean Marcy still can't work the VCR, but its still a lame excuse. I text Fra because I am resigned to the craziness. I am so conditioned to it that if everything went smoothly I would think something is wrong.
    Of course Fra understands, she grew up in Sicily, the crazy old lady capital of the world. But you think we would be able to leave it alone, right? Of course not.
     Nonna, who makes an art out of driving my dad more insane than he already is says, "Rocco, no! I am making the ziti!"
      Ziti is not on the menu. And she is not making enough for everyone, just one tray. For over twenty people. It makes no sense. Nod and smile. 
     I go to my parents this morning and Rocco, while working on his laptop (but he can't text) says, "Jen I can only see you on weekends from now on. Your mother and I are getting a divorce! Don't talk to me until tomorrow."
     This is all about the ziti and whether they should drive Fra even more nuts with this new development. They are actually fighting about this. Rocco is writing a crazy email to Fra, while my mother (the only sane person in our family) is saying and I (half sane) agree, "Just leave it alone! We have already made such a mess. She is never going to invite us over there again!"
     But Rocco, just like Nonna, insists, "No! I am sending it to her!"


And here it is, the crazy email:

Subject: PASCQUA (Easter)


"Bellezza, (gorgeous)

Mia madre ha trovato le forze di fare un po di ziti. Che ci puoi fare, pazianza.
(My mother found the strength to make a little ziti. What can you do? Patience.)

Vuole fare 'na tigghia.
(She wants to make one tray.)

Chiedo scusa e perdono da parte di mia madre che ha volte puo' rompere
le balle pure a quelli che  ce l'hanno d'acciaio.
(I ask your pardon for my mother who has the ability of breaking balls made of steel.)

Mi dispiace.
(I am sorry.)

ROCCO

PS

Marcy e' cosi  mortificata che non ha potuto scriverti.
(Marcy is so mortified that she is not able to write to you.)

Di nuovo, scusa.
(One more time, sorry.)

Rocco, il rappista fallito.
(Rocco, the failed rapper.)
--
Rocco G. Galatioto"

Happy Easter!!!