Topics of conversation at Thanksgiving dinners (plural): Hungarian dental surgery, Anne Frank, Dutch coffee shops (the kind that serve a little something extra), chorus concerts, sleepovers, Tyra Banks and Lindsay Lohan in a seriously embarrassing Disney movie, Dennis Kucinich’s young wife having a tongue ring (my words to that: “He’s a lucky man.”) , shopping on Black Friday, mail-order brides, babies from “out of town” (what we learned my grandmother calls babies adopted from other countries), Best in Show winners, horses (but not ponies, sadly), tofu and tuna fish, Washington DC, death, labor laws of China, and my cousin’s need to get me and her sister (my other cousin) severely drunk on Mimosas at brunch this Sunday.
I had no idea my family was so much fun. I have apparently woken up.
PS – I think I’ll do the fake-out à la Karen from “The Office” and just pretend to get drunk on Mimosas so that I can then be my cousins’ designated driver home. :smiles:
Wow…I wish I had been up there….I like your family!
Fake-out? I don’t remember her doing that.
Fab, yah. :grins:
Avi, remember when Jim was staying late with Karen and Andy at the Stamford branch playing (err, computer game) and doing shots. But Karen keeps dumping her shots in the trash then finally drives Jim home when he falls off his bike cuz he’s drunk. (Did you *not* get the new season? I know you did, you rubbed it in my face that you were getting the Dwight bobblehead!)
Ohhh yeah! I remember now!
Geez, even I remember that. And I never remember anything.
I miss those types of Thanksgivings. They were always at my previous in-laws (all two sets of them).
Yesterday, my day was filled with two bagels, three power bars, a glass of chocolate milk, and constantly saying all day, “NICKY, STOP TAKING HIS HOOFIE! GIVE IT BACK!”, “yes, are ARE getting a bath”. Cleaning up the retribution shit from the bath. Getting out the electric blanket because I cannot keep myself and the dogs warm at night with no man-heater in the bed. Watching the dogs shake, pretending they are cold, and feeling guilty about it. A quick call from my SIL to get my dad’s cell number. And thank god, no call from my mother the psycho hose beast.
Have a Mimosa for me. I find recreational alcoholic beverages to be helpful navigating the family get-togethers.
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