Despite days of scrubbing, sweeping, and organizing... then re-scrubbing, re-sweeping, and re-organizing anything my mother had touched, the 'Thanksgiving Festivities' didn't begin until last night when aunts, uncles, hundreds of cousins, and other people who probably just happened off the street began to swarm through my front door and take up any space that may or may not have already been occupied.
Pies were everywhere, as were screaming children. I huddled in a corner staring in terror at these strangers who'd invaded the living space of my family.
But, the story of my Thanksgiving doesn't begin until that fateful moment that one of my numerous aunts catches sight of me and, in an effort to outsocialize the other aunts, snatched me into her claws of curious (but not truly interested) banter.
"So, I heard you're not going to be around for Christmas."
"Yeah. My boyfriend is having me over to spend christmas with his family." No guilt here. There's yet to be a christmas party where I'd been noticed at all. The family is too large, and most try to avoid socializing with my immediate family.
"Well that sounds fun. So what is your family doing for Thanksgiving?" She was smiling politely while scoping out the room for someone more interesting to talk to already.
I tried to look thoughtful and lied outrightly. "Not sure. Probably just a quiet evening at home."
I would have tried to answer a little quieter had I known that my mother was within hearing distance. Not one to pass up an opportunity to DAZZLE the relatives she so looked down upon, she coughed away a bit of the pie she'd inhaled in her hurry to answer then grinned up at my poor aunt who also hadn't realized how nearby she was.
"Andrea! We're going to Burger King! Remember?? And to a movie!!!" She lifted her chin in her 'holier than thou' manner (not realizing how much like a toad this made her appear) and beamed. For who could be so clever as her to take her family to a fast-food joint on Thanksgiving day? She'd been raving about the brilliance of this plan since she'd received the neon green flyer stating they would be open attached to her sourdough burger.
I grimaced as my aunt tried to meet her gaze in a way that you would when a child that had just announced they found a strange color in a booger and were so proud of it. She failed. "O-oh... that's.... nice... ha..ha..." She suddenly let herself be distracted by one of the children falling flat on his face nearby and scurried away.
I sighed, thinking the danger was over, but, somehow, my mother had noticed the bemused reaction to her announcement.
I would not know of the change in dining plans until the next day.
Groggily, after yet another night of dreams that left me wishing I had not slept, I dressed and dragged myself upstairs to harrass my cousins who had stayed over for the night since they were headed up to Idaho for my aunt's Thanksgiving feast. Once reaching the top of the stairs however, I caught the snarling and cursing and the sounds of things boiling over and being chopped.
....Oh god.....
She was cooking.
Now, Thanksgiving, has never been a holiday that I enjoy. Ever.
From the time that we actually participated in further extended family festivites, where I would get stuffed into an itchy dress two sizes too big for me and crammed into a house too small for the people gathered there to eat bland, semi-cooked food, to now where I settle for semi-edible food at a restaraunt just so my mother doesn't have to put in any effort for the meal... I would much rather skip the holiday altogether.
I can be much more thankful for the things I have without indigestion and trying to keep her 'happy'.
Well, this year, she decided she must fulfill her motherly duties of preparing a meal for the holiday. Especially with the threat of my boyfriend beginning to 'take me away' for future causes for celebration.
Now, you must think that I'm being rather cynical and unappreciative about all this.
But I'll trade any one of you places.
I would rather have been somewhere else when my dad asked about the smoke seeping out of the oven door.... and doubly so when the door was opened and actual FLAMES surged out of the bowl that supposedly had contained the makings for sweet potatos with marshmallows on top. (I had seriously thought that only happened on tv.)
I am now reconsidering the knife set I'm giving her for christmas.
Perhaps a fire extinguisher would be more appropriate.
Happy holidays to any of you who may happen to read this.
Give thanks for what you have.
And give thanks that you're not eating over at my house.
Pies were everywhere, as were screaming children. I huddled in a corner staring in terror at these strangers who'd invaded the living space of my family.
But, the story of my Thanksgiving doesn't begin until that fateful moment that one of my numerous aunts catches sight of me and, in an effort to outsocialize the other aunts, snatched me into her claws of curious (but not truly interested) banter.
"So, I heard you're not going to be around for Christmas."
"Yeah. My boyfriend is having me over to spend christmas with his family." No guilt here. There's yet to be a christmas party where I'd been noticed at all. The family is too large, and most try to avoid socializing with my immediate family.
"Well that sounds fun. So what is your family doing for Thanksgiving?" She was smiling politely while scoping out the room for someone more interesting to talk to already.
I tried to look thoughtful and lied outrightly. "Not sure. Probably just a quiet evening at home."
I would have tried to answer a little quieter had I known that my mother was within hearing distance. Not one to pass up an opportunity to DAZZLE the relatives she so looked down upon, she coughed away a bit of the pie she'd inhaled in her hurry to answer then grinned up at my poor aunt who also hadn't realized how nearby she was.
"Andrea! We're going to Burger King! Remember?? And to a movie!!!" She lifted her chin in her 'holier than thou' manner (not realizing how much like a toad this made her appear) and beamed. For who could be so clever as her to take her family to a fast-food joint on Thanksgiving day? She'd been raving about the brilliance of this plan since she'd received the neon green flyer stating they would be open attached to her sourdough burger.
I grimaced as my aunt tried to meet her gaze in a way that you would when a child that had just announced they found a strange color in a booger and were so proud of it. She failed. "O-oh... that's.... nice... ha..ha..." She suddenly let herself be distracted by one of the children falling flat on his face nearby and scurried away.
I sighed, thinking the danger was over, but, somehow, my mother had noticed the bemused reaction to her announcement.
I would not know of the change in dining plans until the next day.
Groggily, after yet another night of dreams that left me wishing I had not slept, I dressed and dragged myself upstairs to harrass my cousins who had stayed over for the night since they were headed up to Idaho for my aunt's Thanksgiving feast. Once reaching the top of the stairs however, I caught the snarling and cursing and the sounds of things boiling over and being chopped.
....Oh god.....
She was cooking.
Now, Thanksgiving, has never been a holiday that I enjoy. Ever.
From the time that we actually participated in further extended family festivites, where I would get stuffed into an itchy dress two sizes too big for me and crammed into a house too small for the people gathered there to eat bland, semi-cooked food, to now where I settle for semi-edible food at a restaraunt just so my mother doesn't have to put in any effort for the meal... I would much rather skip the holiday altogether.
I can be much more thankful for the things I have without indigestion and trying to keep her 'happy'.
Well, this year, she decided she must fulfill her motherly duties of preparing a meal for the holiday. Especially with the threat of my boyfriend beginning to 'take me away' for future causes for celebration.
Now, you must think that I'm being rather cynical and unappreciative about all this.
But I'll trade any one of you places.
I would rather have been somewhere else when my dad asked about the smoke seeping out of the oven door.... and doubly so when the door was opened and actual FLAMES surged out of the bowl that supposedly had contained the makings for sweet potatos with marshmallows on top. (I had seriously thought that only happened on tv.)
I am now reconsidering the knife set I'm giving her for christmas.
Perhaps a fire extinguisher would be more appropriate.
Happy holidays to any of you who may happen to read this.
Give thanks for what you have.
And give thanks that you're not eating over at my house.
No comments:
Post a Comment