Cruz Family Celebrations are so predictable, you can make a manual for it. It is somebody's birthday, anniversary, graduation, promotion, whatever, and we make that an excuse to dine out, order enough grub to feed half of ethiopia and let daddy max out the credit card. And the manual goes:
  1. Celebrant acts nonchalantly about upcoming occassion. Waits for last minute to make plans.
  2. Somebody in bad need of a free dinner asks "Isn't so and so celebrating this or that?" and that starts off the process.
  3. On the day itself, there is a flurry of phone calls, beeps and text messages. This is bad considering that most of these people live in the same house and did not really have to wait for each other to be apart before making plans.
  4. The big debate on where to go ensues...Nah, hate Chinese food... Too expensive there...Too cheap...Too far...Been there and food's lousy...We were there the last time...Pizza again?!?!...Service stinks...Parking's a problem...
  5. Finally, Mommy, who has been acting as the central message center at home, finally freaks out, makes the usual tirade about this family being so disorganized, calls Daddy up, gripes hysterically and threatens never to celebrate birthdays ever again.
  6. Dad calls celebrant to tell him/her to make a final decision on the venue, probably wondering how a corporate success like him could have raised such a disorderly bunch.
  7. Celebrant finally makes a politically correct, budget-approved, geographically-ideal, gastronomically acceptable choice and there is another burst of phone calls and messages to confirm with everyone.
  8. Reservations are made... or forgotten to be made.
  9. We then start trickling into the selected restaurant. Early-comer surveys menu and makes a bet on how much the whole evening will cost. Some come solo, some come with dates or starving friends.
  10. Table starts to fill up. Appetizers are served. Somebody looks for the camera
  11. Somebody says he's got the camera. But there's no film.
  12. Phone calls are made to whomever is still on the road and can buy a roll of film. Daddy goes, tsk, tsk, tsk.
  13. Finally, we are complete and we start to order. Everybody gets 3 courses each. Waiter gets reasonably confused. Mental note to leave generous tip.
  14. Food piles up. We eat like it's our last day on earth. Of course, we do not limit ourselves to the 3 courses placed in front of us. We have to sample everything that lands on the table. Hands, spoons, arms, tentacles, plates move continuously move around the table. Waiters watch in amazement as we wolf down huge amounts of food. We looked well fed when we got in. How did we get all hungry? On a good day, we wipe out everything served. Some days we have leftovers enough to feed 12 hungry soldiers.
  15. Picture taking follows. Mommy and Daddy has to have a picture where they are kissing. Rida has to be in every pic. Milo shies away from the camera. Ogs makes funny faces. Ten out of twelve shots are for Rajo as he uses every cute expression in his repertoire.
  16. Waiters bring in a dessert with a candle.
  17. Leftovers or none, we are all hungry enough for dessert. Mud pies, cheesecakes, banana splits are shared with the family teaspoon being passed around.
  18. Dad calls for the bill. Peter, with the math savvy and photographic memory checks the accuracy of the bill. He scans the bill and pretends to know exactly how many glasses of iced tea each person had. He says everything looks good. And we take it as bible truth. No one dares questions anyway. At that stage our brain cells are concentrated on the digestion system, not capable of adding 2 plus 2, much less compute if the service tax is fair.
  19. Dad reads the verified bill and shakes his head at the rising costs of family bonding.
  20. Somebody wins the Price Is Right bet for the bill amount.
  21. No more food. No more film. No more money. So home we go.
  22. Ooops, before we finally go our merry way, there is a chorus of "Thank you, Daddy". Some even make false promises of taking care of the next celebration's bill. Yeah right.
  23. Everyone happy.