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KERF Recaps: Reboot Edition, Post 324

Kathy had the bestest Easter ever, with vegetables and exercise to prove she’s healthy, cupcakes to prove she’s tiny enough to eat sugar without gaining 10 pounds, and a baby to play the part of Excuse Ex Machina. She did it for a whole audience, too: her sister “Larbs” and Mr. Larbs came out from Texas, Mr. Larbs’ parents drove from Maryland, Mom and Pop KERF drove from North Carolina, and Bath Matt’s mom

walked over from her house!

Confidential to Kathy and Bath Matt: Use the goddamn new Honda SUV you just bought last year for baby-toting trips to the Target up the highway and nothing else and chauffeur the lady who battles cancer more ferociously than Kathy moderates her comment sections.

As a special Easter surprise, Kathy’s terribly inconvenient child added his first ear infection and croup to his continuing teething agony. Him being “pretty miserable” made the weekend “a bit rocky,” but he was a cruel and tiny dictator, what with his pre-verbal demands to be kept out of excruciating pain:

“Chapped cheeks! That’s just the price you pay for fiddling with the clutch fork on a ’65 Galaxie when a winter gale’s blowing!”

Kathy details her placating efforts:

We tried to keep him as happy as possible and he was so long as we kept medicine going.

Old Easter candy and shot glasses of cough syrup? Looks like another Friday Chez Conchshell.

Friday night mom and dad babysat while us youngins went out to dinner

Please stop calling yourself “youngins.” You’re in your 30s and have the sensibilities of the made-up people who don’t actually live in spec houses: silverware always on the table, cardboard books on the shelving, silk houseplants, glass chess game permanently in progress, wheelbarrow strategically “tipped” in yard to showcase a bunch of blooming flowers, every pillow karate-chopped.

Classic “how many fucking pictures do you NEED of me?” microexpression.

To document the excitement of being “youngins” allowed to go out for the night, Kathy also shows photos where she’s standing with her sister’s husband and her sister is standing with Bath Matt. She calls it:

Husband swap!

They apparently went to that free Friday bullshit but couldn’t find anyone who would let them take photographs of them and hog their food, so they went to a place called “Bang!” for

a handful of small plates to share …. Yum!!

and so Kathy could drink her “favorite” cocktail, an $11 thing called “Afterglow” with Knob Creek bourbon and lemongrass simple syrup.

We didn’t need to see Bath Matt looking tumid and dimly lit and slightly tilty ever. Especially not with his wife’s post-coitally named cocktail. Is he going to huff nitrous and moan “mommy” next?

That’s not the part of the night that’s disturbing Kathy’s readers the most, though:

The virtuous Kathy dragged her sister to “athletic conditioning” on Saturday morning, then let her go

wine tasting with the group while I chilled at home with Mr. Naptime and got ready for Easter dinner

With her family and their in-laws forced to eat outdoors on $400 worth of uncomfortable, imported benches —

— it’s no wonder that Grandma Buzz preferred to risk grass stains on the Younger-Smugsons’ mangy lawn next to Toddler Carbz’s $25 slide while Bath Matt and Mr. Larbs retreated to the fuzziest back corner of the yard, where Kathy’s crappy photography skills couldn’t make it clear if they were playing one-sided Ultimate Frisbee, comparing styles of wearing your collar, or sniffing gasoline.

Before subjecting everyone to dinner, the families were forced to endure one of what was surely dozens of photographs:

How irritated are they at this charade? Check out Mr. Larbs’ parents’ expressions:

“We have food on our plates. Please let us endure it without photographic proof.”

Here’s the menu for the evening:

Even the tulips are trying to grow extra stem and escape.

Kathy serves herself a measly proportion of meat and spreads out all her greens, including the disgustingly adventurous hop shoots:

We grilled them like asparagus, but I think we all agreed that we probably won’t get them again. They were a bit….funky!

But who cares about vegetables? When you’re Kathy, that’s all just a prelude to being

Ready for cupcakes!! Sweet Haus to the rescue!

Rescue from what? Non-sugar-based food?

If Kathy’s ready for anything, it’s motherfucking cupcakes. There’s three freaking photos of the cupcake tray by itself, two photos of Toddler Carbz giving a half-hearted smile at the cupcakes (with Mr. Larbs’ male relative grinning with all his teeth visible in the background), two photos of Bath Matt trying to encourage his son to eat the cupcakes, and two photos of them with Kathy trying to weasel in and catch any fallen crumbs.

That was enough sugar for Easter weekend, though — at least for certain babies named after schools their parents didn’t go to. On Sunday, “The Easter bunny” brought Carbz a two-basket collection of gardening tools and stuffed animals:

Mazen was excited for about 2 minutes and then he said “EAT EAT EGGS” and wanted breakfast : )

Let’s just be thankful Kathy didn’t mutilate these toys like she did with the baby chair a blog reader gifted her.

I still have this reaction when I think about her writing, “(I cut the ears out of the bunny seat – they creep me out!)”

So, on Sunday, a makeupless Kathy showed off her new Gap dress during “brunch.” Here she is pictured with her mom, the menopause blogger who recently disclosed that her writing is being sponsored by Replens’ “long-lasting vaginal moisturizer.” I think this is the expression of someone who thinks she should be headed to a memorial service for her own natural lubrication:

Next, we see Miss Turquoise Sandal Spats posing with college junior too busy to shave, but he plans to take a shower and change his shirt before hitting the St. Patrick’s Day drink specials later that night:

Bath Matt’s mom made breakfast: sausage and egg casserole, bacon, fruit salad, and toast. I hold out some hope that Karen didn’t have to buy the never-seen breakfast meat products she used to cook, but I used Kathy’s chili powder spoon to measure the hope, so it’s an amount hardly visible to the naked eye.

One good thing did come out of her child being sick, though: Dr. Kathy was able to prescribe him a natural regimen of doing her and housekeeper Tony’s cleaning work: 

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