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 soufflé, 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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