Once Upon a Dia de la Madre

As it does every year, Mother's Day rolled around here in La Argentina, who celebrates her mothers like no other place in all the world, as it is known to have particularly caring mothers.
This year, in order the celebrate, the Family Bianchi had an idea:

They were to have a feast, and not just any ordinary feast, either. The type of feast that makes you feel woozy and swollen, not at all unlike a hot air balloon. And, as this feeling is particualarly prized as a sign of contentment here in La Argentina, word was quickly sent that on this particular afternoon, a bountiful feast was to be had by all who were so inclined. And so, word spread. Quickly. It spread to the princes,
... and to the princesses;
to the young,
...and to the elderly;
to the wise,
...and the not so wise.
And people readied themselves hastily for such an event, taking particular care in their appearances, dressing lavishly, so as not to arrive at the Bianchi Castle underdressed for such an occasion.
And, they arrived.
The guests, dressed in their Mother's Day best, poured in from all over Good Air Land, smiling, nervous with excitement, the first -timer's eyes wide open at the expectation of food, the veterans confident in the meal they were about to receive.
(some guests were naughty, but they were welcomed anyway,
and some brought gifts of the finest quality...)
Compliments were doled out to each and every person , with the Mothers receiving special attention.
And the people were happy.
Soon, they were all ushered to their seats,
and food, prepared all day by the kitchen staff, was brought out with large quantities of wine and Coke(Copyright © 2002 The Coca-Cola Company, all rights reserved)
And, the people ate and ate and were generally merry in the Land of Good Air.
And, the people were happy.
All, except for one poor fellow, who was not allowed into the party because of awfully rude, and indignant behavior at such occasions in the past.
And, soon after the meal, when they had finished playing,
and the sky threatened with heavy clouds,
the people, now satisfied and thoroughly lazy, retired to their homes for the night.
And the barred guest, learning his lesson for next time, was left to devour the scraps left over from the hearty Argentines on their Dia de la Madre, knowing that next time, he would have to be on his best behaviour.
(now, I know there is no real moral, no real action, no real climax in this fable, but come on, it was a huge feast of meat to celebrate mothers. What more can you ask for???)