cousin patty's no good, horrible day (m)

A couple of years ago, I was sitting at my computer doing work at night and got an urge to call Cousin Patty.  We talk about once a week now, but while I was working full time, we spoke only once per month.

I called and she answered, clearly upset.  Her beloved aunt had passed away that morning.  I didn't know.  It was a coincidence that I called.

Last night, while sitting on the chaise lounge in my bedroom waiting for Law & Order SVU to start, I got another urge to call Patty.

Turns out she had a hideous day.  While driving home from dropping her husband off at work at the GE factory, she got caught in a flash flood.  She was trapped inside her Cadillac, water rising, engine stalled.  She couldn't open the door to get out.  She had to call 911 to help her.

Then, when she got home, she made lunch for herself.  She took the last square of  lasagna out of the pan in the fridge, heated it in the microwave and, when she went to take it out, she dropped the plate, ruining the lasagna!  All over the floor, sauce on the walls.  Couldn't save the lasagna.  What a waste, she said.

To hear her tell the story, she was more rattled by the lasagna incident than by her near-drowning experience in the car.

And that, in a nutshell, is my family.