Monday, Nov. 29, 2004 - 1:27 P.M.

My name is Purplecigar and I have a dysfunctional family.

Right now I know a lot of you are scoffing at this statement. Thinking to yourselves that your own dysfunctional family would make mine seem positively sane by comparison. That may be true. However, I didn�t have to spend Thanksgiving with your family, I had to spend it with mine. As I do every time I am around my relatives and endure forced gaiety, I begin to believe the Donner Party may have been on to something. Okay, admittedly, that�s a little over the top. I mean, I don�t even like to look at these people, why would I want to eat them? Still�

I must gauge how the day will go before dinner is even on the table. It�s how I know who gets the sharp knives and who gets plastic sporks. It�s how I know who gets the good dressing to and who gets Aunt Frankie�s dressing. It�s how I know which table will have the least amount of issues. It�s how I know who gets a glass of wine and who will just whine, or if I just need to secretly drink all the wine and tell everyone I forgot it. Which all enables me to know which table I�ll be sitting at. Of course, I have been known to short a chair on purpose and stand at the sink and eat. The shorting of the chair is my ace-in-the-hole, baby.

Each year the litmus test is different. Each year the people involved may change. On this Thanksgiving, these issues soon gave me to know I had much to dread:

�My recently (and quite bitterly) divorced father and stepmother both showed up to dinner after both of them said they would not be attending.

�My toddler ran through the house screaming �shit fuck� thanks to my rebellious and, how can I put this nicely, �trying� nephew.

�My mother-in-law arrived with three pies and announced that she bought them because they were on sale two for $10.00. I, assuming it was a tiny brain fade, asked her to do the count for dinnerware and glassware. Which, as I�m sure you�ve guessed, was a mistake.

�My new addition to the holiday menu, a corn and squash souffl�, was a smash hit. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to put the squash in it. Somewhat unfortunately, no one noticed. No one noticed huge slices of squash missing? Who are these people?

�My father-in-law gave his grandson, the obscenity screaming toddler, a nickel. Which did shut him up because he promptly ate said nickel.

So that was my Thanksgiving in a cornucopia. Despite my telling myself every year that it�s the LAST year, I know I�ll do it again next year.

I can�t help it, I love turkeys.

You Give Me Fervor - Friday, Feb. 17, 2006
Revamped Sex Camp - Thursday, Jan. 26, 2006
I'm Not Dead - Tuesday, Jan. 10, 2006
Ebert And Roeper? Watch Your Backs. - Tuesday, Nov. 29, 2005
Coffee? Tea? Map? - Monday, Nov. 07, 2005

� Purplecigar

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