Hey everyone! Hope you all had a good Thanksgiving! Mine was low-key, which is all I really could ask for, with just my parents and brother and me, being the graceful and dignified people we are.
Okay, not really, we were the same potty-mouthed inappropriate freakshows we always are. But we didn't have to PRETEND to be graceful and dignified, which is always good.
Then, of course, it was the annual "Losing of My Mother's Mind" aka decorating for Christmas starting at the ass-crack of dawn on Thanksgiving Day. This involves my dad and brother teetering perilously on the roof to hang garland that would make ol' Martha Stewart shit herself. Also? Bonus points for no one needing an ambulance, guys! Thumbs up!
They LOVE doing this. Don't let the defeated posture and miserable grunting fool you.
Then there is the eating. Ooooooooh, but first we need to go through the performance art that is my dad carving the bird. Here's a recreation.
Dad: Can I cut yet?
Mom: No, it needs to REST. The television said so.
Dad: How 'bout now? *holds knife aloft, pokes turkey with point*
Mom: NO. Put the knife down.
Dad: Hey, can I cut now?
Mom: OH MY GOD, NOOOOOOOO.
Dad: I'm cutting now!
Dad also decided that due to a cooking show he watched, the breast of the turkey was now called the "lobe," a word he said approximately eleventy million times during the course of the night. He also said that the turkey had the biggest boobies he had ever handled.
And in case you were worried that there would be no household pets pretending to talk in this post, let me introduce you to Shelby:
What's a blog? Why you makin' me talk? Can I have more turkey? How bout now? Now? How bout now?
So then we all ate, and made inappropriate jokes, and talked about lobes some more, and then I fell asleep the minute I walked into my apartment, the end.
But I'm very thankful for all of you lovely readers, especially for sticking with me during this whole ridiculous NaBloPoMo thing. Y'all are the best, and rock my stripey socks off.