How'd yours go?
1 hour ago
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This is the blog of Kelly Jennings, science fiction writer.
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4 comments:
Oh...'twas a day:
My mom started to get all kinds of uptight over stupid bullshit. The older she gets, the more rattled she gets about stuff like this. I yelled at her and let my irritation be known before I went out the door to retrieve the children from a field she's let them play in a dozen times before (that night, of course, it wasn't okay). It was a dangerous move on my part because she could've turned into a real bitch and the evening could have gotten ugly quick. For whatever reason she pulled it together and acted like her normal self.
My dad (a big ol' brat who likes to be at home and not at my house, thus the reason I didn't take the burden of the meal off my mother's hands) is sick, again, and displayed some fairly appalling table manners. When the centerpiece was on the table I didn't say anything because the Tonklings couldn't see but then my mom moved it and I very discreetly tried to request he use his fork and he blew up. I realize it's his house and all but, damn, eating turkey with his left hand while he shovels mouth potatoes into his mouth (via fork, thank God) with his right? Come on! My kids don't need any ideas on how to be rude at the table.
My mother's overpriced, swanky oven doesn't work right and a 12 lb. turkey took 6-hours to cook. She and I discussed this beforehand and, thankfully, she listened to me and put the bird in a few hours earlier than necessary.
SG refused to eat anything but stuffing and acted like a pill at dinner.
My dad got all huffy and bitchy over the sweet potatoes I brought over. He said nothing about them during the meal but when they had leftovers for lunch today got crabby with me (again?!?) even though I wasn't there for not leaving more with them (and BTW, I left over half of what I had left in the dish).
Truly, it's just a nuisance. My mom said something about, "Next year..." and I just cut her off and said we weren't doing the meal thing next year. We'll take them to the Bristol or Plaza III and let somebody else bust their ass over a huge meal. I will happily pay (through the nose) for it because the stress just isn't worth it.
Mine was surprisingly relaxing considering that it was spent with family.
Yikes, Tonks!
I'm with you: next year at the Plaza!
I cooked two meals: one in Arkansas for daughter and her children and one Kansas for son and his family. Both went well. I behaved.
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