This year, like the past two years, we went to Winemonkey’s dad and stepmom’s house. It is about a 2 - 2.5 hour trek from my homestead, but it is generally worth it for the following reasons:
They are usually fun to hang out with
There are about 20 people at the house for dinner
We (as in Eric and I) cook a fabulous meal
They breed dogs so there are usually puppies at the house all year round
They have an African Grey parrot who curses like a sailor

This year it was anything but. You can read more below to see why I wasn’t so thankful for my thanksgiving dinner. Suffice to say, I will most likely be going to visit K-bear in Seattle next time around.

However, this year, WSM (Wicked Step Mother, which used to just be a joke between the step kids and her, but now holds more true than ever) decided to cook most of the meal. Which fine, whatever, she is a good cook. But Winemonkey took care of the turkey, tri-tip, and gravy. I helped with the appetizers, bread, and setting everything up. The entire time, WSM kept on Winemonkey about not overcooking HER turkey or HER tri-tip. She bitched about everything we did. Apparently the last two meals have faded from her memory and she couldn’t remember that we actually know how to cook.

When the roasting pan was grimy from the cooking of the turkey, she insisted that they should just throw it away because “it was ruined now” with the implication that it was all Winemonkey’s fault. Keep in mind that this was a $60 roasting pan, AT THE CHEAPEST and they are on a fixed income because they both are retired. So I instisted on scrubbing it because it just needed some elbow grease. And so I went to work, but I couldn’t quite get it all clean. So I was going to let it soak overnight. When I came in the next morning she got right in to “Well, Papa used an SOS pad, but it finally came clean. Soaking was just a waste of time.” And I wanted to say, “Fuck you lady. Can I remind you that you were going to THROW the pan away in the first place?”

Not only was she a collasal bitch about the pan, but all of the cleaning in general. And there was a little girl there who was bored. And didn’t like shrimp cocktail. When I was a kid, I didn’t like shrimp cocktail either. Helll, I still don’t like shrimp cocktail. But because two of the four appetizers were shrimp with cocktail sauce on them and the first appetizer that my sister brought went in the first 30 minutes of being put out, the little girl was hungry. And all everyone kept telling her was that she was a “pain in the ass” and she whined too much and if she didn’t like the food on the table to just suck it up and be hungry or eat it.

How is a kid supposed to learn how not to be a “pain in the ass” when all she hears for 6 hours straight is what a brat she is? And WSM kept saying, if your step mom wasn’t here to look after you, you wouldn’t have even been invited. WSM felt that it was her duty to tell everyone at the house that she didn’t want her step-granddaughter over ever because she is a little terror.

Well, when I sat down with the little girl, she seemed just fine and really just wanted someone to hang out with her. We spent the two hours between when she was getting yelled at and when dinner was served playing cards. And she was fine. In fact, she didn’t complain once.

Needless to say, I am heading somewhere else for Thanksgiving next year. I like the holiday too much to have to listen to someone bitch the entire time.

This year, I was thankful for getting the hell out of there first thing Friday morning.

Posted in Me and my Winemonkey, family ties :
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