Had dinner with Mr. J's extended family this week - it was his grandmother's birthday, a fact not made known to me until 4 pm on the evening of said dinner. Sigh.
Mr. J's immediate family is lovely and classy. Mr. J's extended family is very sweet and ... well, more entertaining. As the J-Mama said to me after dinner at his grandparents' house -- the night of Hurricane Ike, they were the only people we knew with power; they called while we were at J-mama's house helping her out and very kindly extended their dinner invite to include her. Really, they're sweet. But -- in the words of the J-Mama, "Their condo proves beyond any doubt that all the money in the world won't buy you good taste."
Any gathering of the full Mr. J clan is sure to be an experience, and this was no exception. Y'all may recall that Mr. J's cousin is preggers. This is the cousin whose Redneck Wedding back in April spawned so many great stories. As it turns out, at the time of her nuptials she was not three weeks pregnant as claimed but seven weeks pregnant. Setting aside the concerns this factoid raises about Fetal Alcohol Syndrome in light of her raucous bachelorette party, it does in part explain why the fervent prayers of the congregation were all that was keeping her [of course] strapless wedding dress in place over her straining bosom. It disconcertingly appeared that she had stuffed 200 pounds of ... bride ... into a 150-lb silk sack.
The rest of the explanation was made evident at dinner. You should have seen this girl eat. She is not even in her third trimester, and she must have put on 50 pounds already. At least 50. She is enormous. Gigantic. Huuuuuuge. And when she sat down at the table, her belly got a crease (visible due to the tight maternity tee, natch). Um, that's not supposed to happen to a pregnant tummy.
Someone needs to explain to this girl that while she may be "eating for two," the second person is the size of a cocktail shrimp, not an NFL linebacker.
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