This is how I spent my first Saturday home.

This morning, the entire Ovian family piled into the Ford Freestyle and made the trek to the Lowell Showcase Cinemas. The purpose? To see Irving Berlin's White Christmas on the big screen, of course. After much bickering and yelling and bad feeling toward all, we entered the theater parking lot to celebrate the season of giving and love.

And what to our wondering eyes should appear, but a family SUV with an "Armenia" sticker on the rear? It was the only other car in the entire lot, as it was just shy of 10 in the morning the day after a terrible snow storm. Of course, we all figured we would know them, since really, we know practically every Armenian family in the New England area, let alone an hour's drive from our house. My mother was off like a shot to see who it was--and lo and behold, it was the Piligians, a family my family has known for YEARS. At least three of them: Uncle Stephan, Auntie Susan and Lauren.

Of course, when old family friends reunite, especially Armenians, it means there will be no peace for anyone in the vicinity. Throughout the movie, my dad made the usual comments he makes when we watch the film ("You see that guy? He was in West Side Story!" and "How do you feel now??"), and in addition we got the bonus comments of Auntie Susan and Uncle Stephan. It was a good time.

Afterward, we decided to go to lunch at the Chili's next door, after Lauren called her brother Andrew to join us. Now, I am not sure how we got onto the subject of gingers, or why Lauren staunchly calls them so, but we ended up explaining to my dad what they are, and I'm pretty sure trying to convince someone that gingers are not the result of incest (*coughLaurencough*). I think I also might have mentioned gingervitis.

Imagine my anticipation of the hilarity and hijinks that would ensue when I saw a redheaded server round the corner in the nearly empty Chili's. Did I mention that we were a large group of very loud Armenians?

I was the only one who saw him at first, so of course the only thing I could do was eagerly wait and see what the others' reactions would be. My mother was the first to notice: she just about spit out her food and her eyes bulged out of her head right before she poked Auntie Susan and pointed. Slowly the information spread. I waited until he was far enough away before I told Nishan what was going on--he actually did spit out some of his food in an effort to keep his laughter from being too loud. That's when I lost it myself. I couldn't help it! It was FUNNY.

Later the guy walked by us reeeeaaaaaalllll slow. I'm pretty sure he was trying to eavesdrop (not that he would have to try real hard since we were being loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear) and see if we were still talking about the gingers. We were not. At least not until he passed us again.

When my dad asked for the check, our waitress had it in her hands, already bringing it to us. I said she probably heard Nishan, who had rudely yelled out "Check!" Andrew suggested they were kicking us out due to our earlier conversation. I really hope that's the case; at least, I will brag in the future that I was kicked out of a Chili's because we exhibited anti-ginger behavior.