The Opposite of Hugging

I had plans to travel home to Evansville this past weekend with hopes of big things for this blog. A rare sighting of me hugging my parents. Something I haven't done in over 10 years, if not longer. Well, to make a long story short, the hugging didn't happen. To make a short story long, this is what did.

Saturday evening we had a family dinner. My mom cooked dinner while my sister and I made fancy champagne cocktails. I was setting the stage for the big event. I was going to whisper the idea to my sister and hand her my phone to capture video evidence. One cocktail led to several, and said hugging didn't happen.

Sunday morning we had breakfast with the grand idea to make beignets because scrambled eggs wasn't going to cut it for such a momentous event. At this point in the story, I'm still the only one that knew about the hugging plans. That's the way my mind works. Until I tell someone else about it, it's not really a plan, and therefore I'm not stuck to it. Now back to the beignets. We apparently never passed that frying indoors in the winter class because that oil got hot and smokey and all the windows were shut tight. This perturbed my father immensely to the point of demanding my mother, sister, and I "Shut the operation down."

2 things here:
1. I've never really seen my dad get that mad in person. I've only heard tales of it.
2. Cooking breakfast had now become "an operation".

We didn't shut it down. We turned the oil down, finished our beignets (which were amazing), and cleaned up our mess. Meanwhile, my father was walking through the house slamming doors and mumbling things under his breath about us being stupid. He ended up not talking to us the rest of the day so the whole hugging thing didn't happen. I didn't even get a goodbye. Just a side eyed glare which I'm pretty sure meant, get the hell out of my house and take this damn oil smell with you but use my gas card if you need because I still love you (I added that last part in and used it. Because I knew he'd want me to, even if he was mad.)

This is not the sad story of a girl who wanted a hug from her dear father, but didn't get one. So my dad got mad, big deal, he'll get over it. I'll eventually get that awkward, what was I thinking, how do I hug my dad again, is it okay to pat his back, hugging moment.

For now, the tally is still at 12 hugs on day 27.