Because the great aunts have arrived, and they're hungry.
For Christ's sake, somebody at least make them a shaker of Old Fashioneds or they'll trot out that story about Cousin Myrtle and her trip to Acapulco again, and I'm just not sure I can stand it. Here, I'll finish the potatoes. They're mostly your aunts, you entertain them for a while. And mind that damn little dog - he nipped me on the shin as I was hanging up Stella's muskrat stole.
IRL, there's actually a terrific story about these dear ladies, who really are someone's great aunts. Check it out here, and thanks to the author for posting such an evocative gem.