Sunday is Family Day...

So, for most people, Sunday is the day to spend with your family, and do stuff.
Not mine.
Usually, the parents go out after then wake up and have breakfast, they usually take the SheDevil with them.
The older sister makes her plans, and I remain at home with Little One.

So, the Sunday just gone has left me feeling very weird.
I woke up to get ready for a wedding.
...I must say, as much as I remind myself of Narcissus, I genuinely do think I looked beautiful on Sunday.
Figures, the day you wear your mother's sari, and not your own BubbleGum clothes, you feel like a Goddess.
So, we went to the Wedding, ate, mingled, took pictures.
The Dog, the Baby, Natiska and my Twin were there.
What is it with Gujjus coming to Bengali weddings?!
I should've done a Kenan and been more confident... but that always ends up in self doubt, leading to me looking in pain...
So, I just went and made small talk.
I hello and a smile is surely better than a full on air smooch and fake pictures...

Father, once again, made us leave before the ceremony even took place, just like NoorJahan's wedding.
We had a tag along fmaily who wanted to go to the Mela near our house, so they were going to make a pitstop and pray at ours.
Usually after weddings, us siters get together to take pictures.
We couldn't 'cause it was Bin Laden's family who wanted to use our house.
It's not that I hate extremists, I think they're actually trying harder than the moderates to follow their religion... It's just they're so fucking awkward!
You make small talk, and they point out several sins in your one sentence.

So, they come, they see the mess, and they conquer our kitchen and bathroom.
I, in the middle of it, have a lightening speed tidy up, find some gaviscon for the smoker "uncle" and set the prayer mats for everyone, all whilst in the sari and heels...
I think that deserves Kudos.

Uncle tells Little One about the Mela.
Little One wants to go.
FFS.
So, I get out of my sari, take my slap off, and chuck my jeans on.
Yea, I was slumming it.
My parents went along, too.
So, our two families, minus the evil sisters, went along to an Islamic Mela...
Little One and I ditched them as soon as we got in, but they wouldn't leave us alone.
I had countless phone calls, and kept bumping into them.
There's about five sisters, so it was hard trying to avoid them.

Little One and I enjoyed a Slush Puppy and a Hot Dog together, and he had a game of football and a donkey ride, too.
Not bad.
...and we timed it just right, as we joined our parents and the other family at the exit.

Small talk, small talk, small talk...
and they left, and we made our way back home.
In the car.
Even though it takes five minutes to walk.

I get home, and finally get into decent clothes.
Mother suddenly wants to go to the Balloon Fiesta.

We've lived in this city for more than a decade, and they've never given two shits about Summer fayres etc.
Why on Earth did she want to go on the last day of the Fiesta, and who on Earth did she find out from?
So, we make our way to the lovely place that I want to take the HunchBack...
Only, we're directed 15 minutes around the grounds because we took the car, and didn't use public transport.
So by the time we found parking, it was all over and people were returning to their cars.

We took the scenic route home, we passed Brunel's attractions, the Posh part of town...
The Matthew.
... which reminded Ma Soeur Ainee about the production we did in Junior School.
How very apt!
"...headed back East, headed back East.
Head. ed. East.
That adventurous lot!"

We chuckled the rest of the way home.

I spent most of the day in the car.
With the family.
With hardly any arguments.