Let's begin with me explaining why I needed a faux Thanksgiving dinner. Once I heard about the enticing time and a half pay at work, added on top of the 3 year old being with his father, I saw no sense in wasting this wonderful working opportunity.
It was really an all day event for me. I spent most of the day in the kitchen preparing different things, which I don't like doing everyday, but every once in awhile this can make me feel quite good about life on the whole. The other fabulous thing about this faux night was all my siblings were there. There was no turkey but there was deliciousness in other forms. Mind you the food was not my favorite part, which I don't say about very many meals (Welcome to the mind of a chubby kid). My favorite part was the many slightly awkward moments that passed in our conversation. Where to start? . .. . .. .. . . .
(Mini cupcakes, all 60 frosted and coated with sprinked deliciousness).
Earlier the same day the 3 year old had been holding a plastic cup with jellybeans in it, and was making an awful lot of noise jumping around shaking it. While doing this he was singing, "Shake, shake shake, shake your penis." Obviously teaching the anatomically correct parts to a 2 year old can and does/did backfire. This lead into talk about the correct thing to call body parts. Now, obviously our special parts don't have pretty names let's not kid ourselves, however leave it to my mother to decide that "Twat" was a better name to call our lady parts than anything else. "Twat" really? As if the vagina needed an uglier name than it already has. This was decided at the dinner table over cord on bleu, thanks mom!! Would you like a little twat talk with your salad anyone?
My junior high trauma was also brought up. Which one you ask? ....Well, in 7th grade two friends and I decided we would try out for choir. For those of you who have heard me sing you can understand my voice is not one to be shared in a non sarcastic setting. Its not good. To make matters worse I sang "You Lie" by Reba MCentire. For those of you who have never heard this song please go you tube it now. I'll wait. .. .. . .. .. A very high pitched song, no? Very high. No one tried to stop me from humiliating myself by singing a song that was way out of my range. Not a soul. And no, I didn't make choir, thank you very much!! So, we revisited this moment just so I would know it was remembered. You know the moment I've spent years trying to forget.
Someone had asked me earlier in the week if my brothers were gorgeous, I brought this to the table's attention to get every one's opinions. My sister decided their beauty was only skin deep. She said this out loud, mostly because the girl's mother who told my sister, mother and I that our beauty was only skin deep was sitting at the table. She didn't get it. For the record my outlandishly obvious, remarkable unexplainable beauty is, for the record, only skin deep. At least I'm in good company with my family being in the same boat though.
(one of the brothers in question.)
The night ended with a dance. This for once was not my doing. It was better than my doing. It was my sister in law's outrageous, well rehearsed sexy stripper dancing. She waited until all but me and my bro had cleared out. After she had taken off her coat and thrust it to the floor she proceeded to go down into a squat against the wall as if it were a pole. As if this in and of itself weren't good enough my dad walked out of the bathroom at just that moment. Picked up her coat for her as she picked herself off the ground. She shamefully took the coat, as well as my applause!!!
(the other brother in question, as well as his wife. You know the one with the moves. Don't let the babies fool you, she's no uptight mommy).
My point is my Faux Thanksgiving/sister's b-day dinner kicked ass. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!!
With much Love, Amy
