How does “Let’s get a family portrait taken” turn into a…

How does “let’s get a family portrait taken” turn into a $3,000.00 catered BBQ with 70 Guests and a professional Bartender who may or may not be wearing a shirt (I know we’re having a professional bartender come in, I don’t know if my dad’s caterer knew he was joking when he asked for a Chippendale)? I love my family, I do…I love my father, I really do…but sometimes he over complicates things to the point where they’re more of a pain in the ass to do and no longer fun.

I did not want a $3,000.00 catered event, nor did I want the work required (setup, organizing, having him go psychotic and sending me on 400 errands to 400 stores and then arguing with me over what I’ve picked up) associated with such an endeavor and if I tell him that this isn’t what I wanted (I wanted a photograph, taken on one of our digital cameras and maybe I would have even picked up a nice frame when I got back to Buffalo) then I’m spoiled because clearly everyone wants a $3,000.00 fucking BBQ that requires a professional staff of waiters and a caterer…

When I get married (whether recognized by a government or not) I (well, my partner and I) will be paying for the entire event ourselves. We will plan the entire event ourselves. My parents will have no input (if I have to hire armed security to enforce this decision, consider it done with orders to shoot meddlers on site). They will get two plane tickets in the mail and will be told when and where they are to show up: that’s it.

Ask my father for an Omlet and all of a sudden you find yourself in charge and responsible for an entire fucking farm.

…maybe I just need more coffee…

I know that I’ll have fun today, as soon as there are guests…because that puts 70 people between my father and I…he has been yelling and talking at me, for the past 48 hours and if I don’t get a break soon, we’re going to put on boxing gloves and deal with it the old fashioned way.