So, Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and
I’m excited. Holidays with my family are extra fun because half of my family is
very religious, and the other half is not. And I don’t mean in an, “I believe,
but I don’t make it to church more than twice a year,” kind of way, I’m talking
actual atheists. The only halfway reasonable people are the token agnostics and
the three year old. He’s very non judgmental. And once the alcohol has been
flowing for a while we get excitement of (come on, I have to), biblical
proportions. Because sooner or later someone will let slip a blasphemous
comment, usually unintentionally blasphemous (usually), and suddenly one half
of us will announce that the other half of us is going straight to hell. If
this happens after we’ve eaten then perhaps the evening just breaks up a bit
early, but sometimes it happens before dinner, and that’s when things get
really nice and awkward. And this year there will be moonshine.
So the day is going to go something
like this. We will arrive at my grandparents’ (aka Nana and Grandpa), sometime
in the early afternoon. (By “we” I mostly mean the younger two generations.
There are four total.) We will begin drinking immediately. I’ve already
mentioned this, but it deserves repeating mostly because I am excited about it;
this year we are going to have moonshine. We’ve been sticking to beer and wine
the last few years because my grandfather isn’t supposed to drink, so my
grandmother hasn’t been keeping liquor in the house, which is such a bummer
man, even though they never let us use the good whiskey for whiskey sours
anyway. Something about expense and desecration.
So once we’re armed with libations
it’s out to the patio, so that the smokers, who are dwindling in number, can
indulge. In fact, I believe we’re down to one this year, don’t worry, mostly
due to quitting, unless I have a relapse, which is possible (see moonshine), or
unless Fun Jon makes an appearance, which is probable (see moonshine), and
awesome, because Fun Jon out drinks, out smokes and out blasphemes us all. I’d like to say more about him, but by
day he has a business to run, and my nephew to support, and my sister to adore,
so his identity must be kept completely secret. Shit, I may have said too…Nah,
it’s probably fine.
Anyway, usually we play board games, loud
board games, it’s amazing how much shouting and swearing is required for a game
of Cranium. They don’t put that in the instructions. While we are outside
shaming Nana with our rowdiness, Grandpa is inside trying to get a drink (only
if he’s awake), if not, he’ll try for wine with dinner, but Nana won’t let him,
because he’s on prescription medications for being old. Some people are uptight
about booze and pills and Nana is one of them. I am not uptight about that at
all, but unfortunately I have no reliable way to get prescription medications
because I have yet to come across one of those great doctors that prescribe
whatever you want. I hope that’s not an urban legend.
Then we’ll have dinner. At dinner
there will be conversation. Sometimes it’s normal catching up family stuff.
Sometimes, we debate things like what kind of poop would be the least
unpalatable to eat. Really and truly. Of course in the scenario you are somehow
forced to eat the poop, it’s not recreational poop eating. If you don’t already
know, bunny poop is the best, because you can just swallow the little pellets
without chewing. Theoretically. As far as I know this has not been tested in the
field. Also, full disclosure, we did not reach a consensus on the bunny poop.
At some point, no matter how those of us who
are at all sensitive to conflict try to avoid it, religion will come up. This
is when the real fun begins. There will
be some yelling, somebody will cry, and at least one person will be told that
they are going to hell. Interestingly, the person who cries is never the person
who has just found out about their impending damnation; the crier is usually the
person who informed the damned of said
damnation, which doesn’t make a lot of sense. Of course I could be
underestimating how draining it is to break that kind of news to a loved one.
After that, if everyone hasn’t
fled, we adjourn back outside. There will be more alcohol, because by then we
really need it. We may play more games, and we may take the opportunity to poke
gentle and oh-so-discreet fun at the evening’s combatants. Eventually there
will be dessert, lovely dessert, some of it from the store, the best of it
made. And that’s it. The sick part is I’m really looking forward to it. And not
just for the moonshine.
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