Seriously. Something always happens in my family’s holiday events. Last year at Christmas? People were smoking pot down in the basement of my aunt’s house. And guess what: none of them were under the age of forty-five. Me, my sister, my nephew and all of my cousins were upstairs with my parents and one aunt (by marriage so she isn’t related by blood). The aunt who owned the house went next door for some reason, so the rest of my mother’s siblings went to smoke. With teenagers upstairs. I hadn’t known because if I had, you would have read about what happened in the newspaper’s police blotter.
This year, well, no one toked up but my mother’s other sister (i.e. not the good one) flipped out because me and my cousins walked down the street to hang out at the school playground. The thing is she knew we were going out and we were gone for an hour and a half. Still she flipped out at us (me in particular as the oldest) for being “inconsiderate.” The best my mom could figure was she wanted to leave and her daughter wasn’t around, and when she drove around and didn’t see us…well, I don’t really know what made her flip out further because everyone else knew where we were and weren’t worried because we do this every damn year. Of course, it didn’t help that my cousin left her phone behind (although at least one other person had a phone they could have called), but really. My aunt was talking about calling the cops, never mind that she was the only one upset and there were five of us out there, all of whom are more responsible than the adults have shown themselves to be.
So, yeah. That’s Thanksgiving at my house. Hell on Earth. How was yours?
(PS: look at my previous post! I just love it and can’t stop talking about it. Please validate my probably misplaced pride!)