Easter Manicotti?

I've called the restaurant twice. Hoping that something on their limited menu would jump out at me. It didn't.

Before I called the first time, I was cavalier about the whole thing. No big deal -- it's just another Sunday. My family is scattered all over anyway -- it's not like everyone will be eating together. And then I called. And heard the menu. Fried this, fish that (I don't do seafood), pasta this, cream sauce that.

I asked about the grilled chicken and broccoli with cream sauce. Could I get that special without the sauce? I was told that because of the volume of business on the holidays, they don't do special orders.

And then I was a little bummed that I wouldn't be spending the holiday with any of my family.

I called the restaurant again last night. Talked to a different person, got the same info. So what do I do? Do I just suck it up and go? Do I call my mother and ask her to pick another place? Do I do nothing and just tell her on Sunday that I'm not going? I wasn't sure.

My dear friend Wanda called from Baltimore at that very moment. She's calm. She's smart. She has her own parent and sister issues. And she's known me (and my mother issues) for more than 10 years -- so she was the voice of reason. Her advice -- "stick to your guns. You have to do what's right for you. You'll be miserable Monday morning because you overate, or ate the wrong things. You're in a zone right now -- you don't want to lose that."

Sound advice. I called my brother in Virginia. And even got a little weepy with him. I bet he was wishing that his wife wasn't sick in bed with the flu so she could have dealt with me. He said the same thing. "Don't let her manipulate you. You asked for a specific type of restaurant and stated the reasons. As usual, she didn't listen. Or chose to hear what she wanted. Call her and ask her what happened with the other options. Tell you can't eat what they're offering. If it were their full menu, it'd be a different story. But its not."

So I called Fran last night. I told her I called the restaurant and that there wasn't really anything I would eat on the menu. She must have heard me fighting the tears at one point. She certainly had to have heard the exasperation in my voice. But she chose to ignore it.

"Don't they have pasta dishes?"

"Too heavy."

"Chicken?"

"Chicken parm, or a broccoli with cream sauce dish."

"What about manicotti?"

"Too fattening. It's fine. I just won't go."

"Everyone will be disappointed. They're all looking forward to seeing you."

"Well, that's why I suggested Red Lobster or someplace with a full menu so I could get a big salad."

"They're not taking reservations. And with eight of us...." I didn't remind her that in the entire city of Syracuse, there are more restaurants serving dinner on Sunday than just Red Lobster and Tassone's.

"It's fine. I'll bring Katie home in the morning. See Bob, Sally and Zak. Then I'll come out and see you for a little while before heading back home. I'll stop at Panera and get some soup."

"What about steak?"

"Not knowing the cut, I'm not sure. I'll check."

"You could eat half of it."

"I wish I could. I have portion control issues. Ya know what, it's not a big deal. It's my issue, I need to deal with it. Unfortunately, this is the way I have to deal with it."

"Well, you've worked so hard, so I understand that you don't want to blow it, but it's just one meal."

Tears are being fought back at this point. "I just now, within the last four days, lost the 10 pounds I gained over the holidays. I do not want to...." Big sigh.

"Ok...but we'll miss you."

I'm beyond words at this point. I laid on my bed and cried for a little while, refrained from subjecting my brother to more tears with another phone call. Perhaps I'm being unreasonable in expecting that she might say, "let me see if I can find another place." Perhaps I'm being unreasonable in expecting that she would understand. Perhaps I should just go -- and test myself.

It's Wednesday -- I'm sure I'll flip flop on the decision more than once between now and Sunday.