“Mom! Dad!” I barge into the house, my chest heaving and sweat droplets gathering on my forehead from practically running here.
“Oh, darling it seems we are in trouble,” Dad approaches from the kitchen, my mother in tow with a glass of red wine grasped in her delicate fingers.
“Family meeting, now,” I demand, leading them into the family room. “Please,” I add when my mom narrows her eyes at me.
“We’re listening,” Mom says, sipping her wine and snuggling closer to my dad, his arm automatically going around her shoulders.
“What is this I hear about a dinner?” I stand over them, my hands finding their place on my hips.
They look at each other sheepishly, “About that,” they say in unison.
“Guys,” I whine, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, considering how horrible last time went,” my dad
