How about a new tradition?

Well, it's started already, the pounding on the door, and it's not even noon. I'm ignoring it and I'm sitting here three feet from the door, so they know I'm in here. You'd think my mother would take a hint. The hint was a few days ago when I said this is a stupid holiday and I don't want any part of it. I told her hell no, I wasn't coming....she still thinks she can make me. Our family Thanksgivings have never been good. Miserable dumb people sitting around eating crappy food and dying to get the hell out of there. When I was a kid, I remember there was always food at Thanksgiving and I looked foreword to it, even when it was bad. I can buy my own food now, so fuck being miserable to be polite. No thank you to cat hair covered grease gravy and whatever else you have over there, ma. She likes to serve non traditional stuff, she thinks this makes her interesting and a rebel. There is nothing interesting about caffeine free, sugar free, watered down, burnt....crap. And the fact that she never cleans her kitchen makes it even less charming than the inevitable hour long discussion about the horrors of MSG. You can search for days to find a tub of generic margarine that's been left amidst the rubble. She has a table, two of them actually, but, I don't think we've ever sat at a table in our lives. The tables are covered with junk and cats. All the so called food is served buffet style off the crusty stove..the stove no one knows the true color of. The mystery stove. You don't want to lean to close to that thing. Everyone eats in front of the TV in her oddly arranged living room, where you have to balance your plate with one hand and unload a chair full of junk to sit down. Everything centers around the flat screen and I'm sure they're giving a prayer for Oprah and thankful that Dancing With The Stars will continue. God works in mysterious ways..I guess. There is no such thing as napkins, even paper ones, which would be nice to wipe the picked out cat hair on. My children always avoided it like the plague claiming they had other places to go..which they do/did. They usually make a stop in to say hello, but, no one can really eat there. But, I was always stuck there because on holidays you go back to whence you came. It is expected. If they were nice people, I would still be there, smiling round the cat hair and grease. But, I don't like them and I'm not going to suffer it anymore. More knocking..you'd better give it up, old lady, your congealed pan of grease is getting cold. The cats are probably helping themselves while she's over here pounding. When I think of Thanksgiving, I smell cat piss...and grease.
*
I'm making vegetarian lentil soup..for myself. Casey will pop over later after her Dad's feast. Lissa will be brought round, after her mom's family dinners, to "say hi" and she will probably end up staying all night. It's a free babysitting rouse, any holiday. It's cool though, I bought some hot dogs for her. And cottage cheese, the kid loves her cottage cheese. Lissa also shares my love of anything made from Jello, so I have Jellos and Cool Whip. That's a holiday in itself, Jello. Jiggly yumminess. I can even hide evil carrots in it. Someday the child will figure out what Jello really is and what it contains..I don't want to think about that sad day..for now, Jello is magic. And Thanksgiving really means were very close to Santa day. Oh, Santa, you jolly elf! I know he's getting things ready at the North Pole and I'll bet Mrs. Claus has lots of Jello for him today. That's what makes his belly jiggle. Ask any kid.
*
Anyhow, I think I've made some new traditions, homemade soup on the stove for when the kids are tired of all the divided families turkey and ham, and the freedom to be free of it all. I also propose it to be a "punch in the head" day. That's right. How about if on Thanksgiving we can punch one relative right in the head and get away with it? I think it would be a great tradition..the day would be spent hiding from each other and no one would have to go anywhere or cook anything. No more smart ass dumb people talking behind your back at dinner, or POW, right in the kisser. No more boring jack ass's with windy boring stories or POW, right in the nose. No more drunken uncles trying to feel you up or POW, right in the head. And instead of calling the cops, they have to say, well, it IS Thanksgiving, you asked for that. Pass the cranberries. I'll bet the pilgrims punched people in the head. It's absurd that there's not one holiday where we can punch people in the head.
*
Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends..I hope you have great food and get to punch someone in the head.