Thanksgiving was interesting this year. At least my brother joined us this time. I got to drive 4 hours to middle of nowhere ghetto California with 6 balloons in the back of the car. My mother had me go buy four birthday balloons for my evil grandma and two Thanksgiving balloons for my younger cousins.
My family was split into 3 cars because we were travelling from different places. My brother and I were the last to arrive, and when we got there we discovered that my mom had made the other two cars wait outside the gate and not go in, because she wanted us all to get there at the same time. The funny thing is, my grandparents saw them sitting there (they didn't know who it was because they didn't recognize the cars) and were wondering what people were doing sitting outside the gate. So my uncle went over to investigate and found them. What are you doing? Waiting for the other two. Why don't you come in? Not yet. O-okay.
So, then it turns out that my mother wanted each of my siblings and I to carry one balloon in to my grandmother and present it to her with a card. And sing as we come marching in. We refused. I gave the four balloons to my sister and she handed the bunch to my grandmother. My mom kicked me. I think it was because we weren't singing. Either that, or she's a brat.
She was acting very strange all day. Kinda juvenile. Like a little kid. She was channelling her sister, who wasn't there. But of course, it wasn't her that was acting weird, it was my grandfather. Or my brother. Or my aunt. Whatever lady. When the hostess says she doesn't want the football game on TV while we're all eating dinner, don't push it. You don't even watch football. You didn't even know who was playing. Let it drop. Shut up. And don't sulk. Grr.
I think it's probably a good thing that the majority of my family doesn't drink (there hasn't been alcohol served at a family get together since '99), because if we did our gatherings would be more than boring whine-fests, they'd be all out bitch-fests. And my uncles would get into wrestling matches that would turn into smackdowns. And my grandparents would snipe at each other until they stopped speaking to each other. And my mother would make inappropriate comments for the sole purpose of embarrassing my cousins. And my dad would turn into a snob and act superior. Oh wait, that happens even without the booze. But at least if they were drunk there'd be an excuse. And it'd probably be funny, instead of simply uncomfortable.
And after it was all over we had to drive the 4 hours back home.