Yeah well, all things considered it was a pretty good Turkey day.
Whatshisname and I had a fabulous meal at his mom's place up in Glenside Pennsylvania.
Mother Whatshername is an effervescent , welcoming individual with the most absolute way of putting others at ease ... she's a big old sweetheart, is what she is. The three of us ate, and laughed, and talked, and ate some more until we were stuffed to the gills.
When we finished up, we trekked on back over the river and through the woods back to Utopia where we unloaded the left overs into the fridge, had some coffee and then headed back out for round 2.
My sister's place in Cherry Hill was jam packed and as expected, my Mama was nursing a cocktail and when she saw us walk in proclaimed, "OH here comes my prodigal child!"
Hugs and kisses and greetings all around and we sat down to a table of obscenely incredible desserts (which included this pumpkin butter cake my youngest sister had whipped up -- damn, that thing was orgasmic!).
Whatshisname and I filled out the obligatory Pollyanna slips that my brother-in-law, Monk had supplied and looking at our watches agreed that it was just about time to leave when...
Mama Romano planted herself next to the two of us and started talking about her early career as a housewife, "In my day, my husband came home to a hot meal and a cold beer ... and then one day I decided, to hell with that!"
I don't recall what brought that rant on, but it happened. Next thing I know, my dad comes back into the dining room and says, "Oh what the hell are you bitching about?"... now somewhere deep in my psyche, a little 10 year old Pax is covering his ears and screaming, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU" -- Whatshisname pulled me aside to go get our coats and as we were saying our goodbyes my dad says to me, "Are you off tomorrow?" I tell him I am and he says "Well come over tomorrow and help me paint the basement."
Before I can say or do anything, Mama says to Dad, "Oh leave him alone, you don't need any help!" and then Dad says to me, "Well I won't hold my breath waiting for you"...
I CAN'T HEAR YOU, I CAN'T HEAR YOU...
...and the parents are arguing, over me no less.
Not knowing what else to do, I grab my mother and give her a big kiss and say, "Love ya' ma, Happy Thanksgiving", and then I turn to my Dad and say, "Call me when you are ready to start painting".
That shut them both up and peace was, temporarily, restored.
Back in the car and heading back to the calm and peace of home, Whatshisname and I howled over the antics of my parental units and when we got home we broke into some more of that obscenely delicious pumpkin butter cake...