Turkey Day

Well, the Big One is nearly upon us and as I sit here pondering just what sweater dear Dad in Law (DIL) is going to bestow upon us this year, I'm filled with a sense of dread.  I mean, like curled up in a corner of the basement closet under the stairs talking to finger puppets kind of dread.

I don't want to go.

(Cue Mel Gibson, "They'll take our lives, but they'll never take our FREEDOM!")

Ok, so that's a bit over-dramatic, I admit.  But Thanksgiving isn't what it used to be and this new-fangled combined family affair is just short of painful.  Like a compound fracture is just short of painful.  This sort of pain can only get worse once DIL starts playing the Kenny G cds and using big words like "mitigating" and "symposium" and talking golf and electronics.

I'll admit there was ONE year during my marriage when I couldn't do it, just couldn't do it.  So I had the dog fixed and claimed that she couldn't be left alone.  Yeah, how sad is that?  I actually spayed my dog so that I could get out of Thanksgiving at the inlaws.  Well, she was going to be spayed anyway, but lets just say that my timing was very thoughtfully handled.

Otherwise I have spent the past, gosh, 13 years with the inlaws and the turkey, oh and the flightless bird as well.  And every year it comes down to the Where, the When, and the Who's Bringing What. 

Now, the holiday "where's" are always a big controversy that usually ends up like a corporate merger...lots of bidding, lots of give and takes, and lots of "God, I wish we were having it at YOUR house" (thanks mom).  The reason is that my inlaws go out of their way to make a big, happy, celebratory deal out of ANY holiday....and they don't let you forget it.  (Cue MIL, "We were up till two o'clock this morning...")  Granted, there is humor in watching them argue over whether the cranberries should be whole or can-shaped.  And there IS something to be said for MIL's constant angry mutterings and dishrag flingings.  Oh and the punch which has become the family's mainstay at get togethers....

Some cranberry juice

Some Triple Sec

Some Champagne

Mix, drink lots.

Anyway, I LOVE having holiday gatherings here at the Asylum.  However, I had to withdraw my bid for Thanksgiving because of the flooring/painting projects and the fact that I'm no where NEAR finished.  So, its at the inlaws this year.  And my chickenshit aunt and uncle have decided to stay in their own state and not make the two-hour trek here because, "We can't see in the dark to drive home and have to work the next day".  Whiney babies.  It'll be interesting to see if Nicko the Sicko is brave enough to join us.  She's always good for dropping F-Bombs at the dinner table and other assorted novelties.

Now, the WHEN is a whole other can of slugs indeed.  Let's review yesterday's conversation...

Her:  Well, you could come over at noon and we could eat at one.  Or, you could come over at one and we could eat at two, or three.  You know how it is with Dad and I...we're never on time anyway.

Me:  Whatever's fine.  Just tell us when to be there and we'll be there.

Her:  Um, I'll let you know about that.  I have to talk to Dad first, and yada yada yada blah blah blah...

For God's sake, make a freaking decision!!  WAAAAHHHHH!!!  (Pulling my hair out).

So, we still don't know when we're supposed to be there.  But like it freaking matters.  I mean, does it matter to a death row inmate WHEN they get zapped?  Hell no, the fact is they're getting zapped and there's no way around it.

Ok, onto my personal favorite....WHAT to bring!

Her:  Your mom and I were talking about what to bring.  Dad and I are doing the turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing.  Your mom (like I didn't know) is bringing a jello salad and a pecan pie.  We were thinking that someone should bring green bean casserole, maybe a relish tray, sweet potatoes, a pumpkin pie, their first born son, the holy grail, a virgin to sacrifice, yada yada yada blah blah blah..."

Me:  Ok, I'll bring the green bean casserole, a pumpkin pie, and the sweet potatoes (because God forbid she makes these with Sweet N Low and fat free butter).

Her:  Well, but that's a lot to bring!

Me:  I have nothing but time (and the sudden urge to shoot myself in the eye with the nail gun).

Her:  Well as long as you're sure because Grandad can bring the....(this is me drifting off in a pain-filled haze of annoyance).

Me:  Nope!  I'll bring those things!! 

Her:  Is Nicko coming over do you know?  I mean, there'll be plenty because Dad and I got an 18 pound turkey.  We'd love to have her (oh I bet you would!).

Me:  I don't know.  But I'll get back to you.

Her:  Well, be sure and let me know because we have to bring chairs up from the basement and yada yada yada blah blah blah (this conversation is like morphine).

So, it looks like another Turkey day will come and go without much excitement.  Not that Thanksgiving is really all that exciting anyway.  But I can tell you that I WILL have my bid in for Christmas at the Asylum.  I remember one year when I sent the whole family out on a treasure hunt after dinner.  That was the year we served the traditional Mexican Buffet (ok, so that's not at all traditional for us).  But I was SO dreading the thought of the guys in their sweaters, the girls in their designer skirts, the "and how have YOU been" nonsense that I had to shake things up.

But all I need to do now is get through Thanksgiving and then its onto my diabolical Christmas plans.  Mwah ha ha ha ha!!  Bring on the firecrackers and eggnog!