11/22: Thanksgiving Family Feuds
Well it’s that time of the year again. Time to give thanks. Time for family. Eh. I’m giving thanks I don’t give a shit about my family. Mom came over Sunday. She just graduated from Jesus school and is going to do God-knows-what. Hey, I made a funny. I don’t hate her or anything – it’s just that we were never really close. She spent the 1980s and 1990s working and going to night school, and I spent that time with baby sitters and latch keys. I think part of this is the reason why family doesn’t mean that much to me. Then again, it could also be because my family is fucking insane, but then again most families are. That’s what makes them families. My old man, well, I haven’t spoken to him in about a year-and-a-half since the wedding. I don’t really know what happened to cause this so-called “rift,” but I have an idea as to what caused it.
It was three Thanksgivings ago, and I already my Turkey Day itinerary lined up for a week. First it was an early afternoon stop at the future in-laws. Later on that day, I had a restaurant dinner set up with the old lady. She was in Ohio at the time and stopped by the Shittsburgh region to see me (God knows why) and some other people she knows around here. I was supposed to meet her around 4 p.m. She called me a week or two before Thanksgiving, and I jotted her down in my ever-so-filled social calendar. Then it happened. The night before Thanksgiving, I get a call from the old man and asks if I want to go to his house for turkey day. That’s where it all went downhill.
You see, my parents have been divorced for more than 20 years now, and my policy of who gets what holiday with me (you’d figure they’d fight over who doesn’t have to spend holidays with me) was first-come first-serve. This rule was used often when I lived away from Shittsburgh, especially when I took up residence in Ohio for a few years. If one parent called and asked if they could stop over for a holiday, my time is booked. Several times my old man called me before the old lady for a Christmas visit or something similar, and I would tell my mom that “dad already beat you to it.” She’d understand and come over another time. Well, this Thanksgiving was the first time I had to bump dad off the list. You see, he lives more than one hour away, and I wasn’t about to cut my mom’s time short from her Thanksgiving visit. I was going to be at the future in-laws from 1 p.m. to about 3 p.m. Then it was time to see the old lady for a few hours. There was no way I would then drive out for a third Thanksgiving visit. Call me a bad son, and I’ll agree with you. Because of this, the old man now thinks I’m “ignoring” him and I haven’t heard hardly a peep from him in three years. Oh well. I’ve managed to survive thus far without his … uniqueness. Want to know what he’s like? Well, the scary thing is I see a lot of him in me, but there are two major difference. Difference one: I’m not a union Democrat. Difference two: I know I’m full of shit. Other than that, the similarities I see between the two of use downright scares me.
But all this was three years ago. Tomorrow it’s just one visit to the in-laws. This will probably be one of the better Thanksgivings I’ve experienced over there, considering the crack-whore sister-in-law probably won’t be in attendance. The first year she decided to “show us” and not arrive was one of the better Thanksgiving encounters I experienced. The highlight was when the crack-whore called in the middle of dinner to ask if someone would drive her to the laundromat. Of course, she had NO idea that we were eating at the time. No, she just called at the same time that her family has had this annual dinner since, well, forever. This year should be even better because the crack-whore’s out-of-control teen daughter will probably be away, too. The reason? She’s fighting with the mother-in-law and was recently caught lying, which is resulting in the mother-in-law taking this chick off of her auto insurance, or some shit like that. Ever since this fight, which took place a week ago, this chick hasn’t been back home (she “lives” with my mother-in-law because, well, her mom’s a crack whore). Anyway, this self-imposed exile will probably mean I don’t have to put up with her presence.
Hey, maybe I do have something to be thankful for this year.
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