After the formal festivities are over, Sister declares herself terribly tired, and goes to lie down. On her way to bed, she grabs both Batya and I individually to whisper in our ears that we owe her fifteen bucks for our share of the gift, wrapping, and card for the bride.

Batya and I go into the kitchen, and acknowledge that the only way out is through.

The partygoers have been eating and drinking from the good Lenox china with gold borders that can’t go in the machine, and the Christian Dior gold-trimmed champagne glasses, ditto.

With considerable help from Sister’s best friend, we clean the kitchen, tidy away the lunch table, and throw out the TP and wrapping paper, as the guests continue to chat with the bride in the living room.

(An hour later).

Sister must have ears like a bat, because as soon as the last Lenox dish is hand-washed, hand-dried, and hand put away, she emerges, to smile upon the guests as they begin to leave. She also scolds Batya and I for letting the bride do ‘our job’ by offering lollipops to the guests as they go.

We finally announce that we MUST get out of Dodge. Batya thanks Sister for hostessing. Sister smiles wanly, and thanks us for ‘helping with the food’.

At a Carl’s Junior down the road, where we have pulled over to get sodas, Batya suddenly clutches at her chest, and asks if I wrote Sister a check. I assure her that a check for the amount owed by both of us was left with Sister’s BFF.

Batya almost cries with relief.

I think the bride had a good time. I didn’t do it for Sister. I did it for the bride, because she is my friend, and because it is a mitzvah to give a bride enjoyment.

Feh.