The post where I put my business out in the street.

*wink*

Hope your Thanksgiving was super-dee-duper.  We headed east to the coast, and all I have to say is that any Thanksgiving that doesn’t involve me standing over a stove with people standing behind me going “Are you going to put some pep’a in that?” is a good one.

Because I’m smart (imagine me tapping my temple with a finger here) I avoided the inevitable fracas at my mother’s house.  My sister will fill me in on details.  All I know is that my family doesn’t ever play nice for holidays/weddings/funerals.  People argue.  Sometimes there are fights…sometimes cops show up (did I tell you about my grandmother’s funeral???)  It’s embarrassing.  I don’t like drama in my life unless it’s scripted and two hours long.

Anyhow, apparently I’m some kind of prodigal child for not going to my mother’s for holidays, but who wants to set themselves up for that kind of kerfluffle?  Either I’ll show up and have thinly veiled insults tossed at me or stay home and hear through the grapevine that someone (*ahem*) was talking smack about me anyway.  Blood may be thicker than water, but guess what?  You can still drown in it.

You don’t have to be a psychic to know that if my mother + one of her kids + a peanut gallery (usually my aunt) converge it will equal someone claiming not have done stuff (my mother) and someone else in a state of histrionics.

We’re good kids.  Really, we are.  I, in particular, am not the kind of chick that flies off the handle at things.  I don’t brawl with people, and I’ll hold my tongue a long time before telling someone about themselves. (I think that’s my mission in this life - learning to keep my mouth shut.)  But seriously, one of these, my mother is going to do something that’ll make me do something that’ll make my poor, saintly grandmother roll in her grave.

Posted by Tiffany on 11/29 at 07:52 PM
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