Anyway... tangent aside, my mother served Thanksgiving dinner at 1:00 p.m. today. Who does that? My aunt and my grandma are here, and during the meal everyone was watching football. Festive, innit?
There's something about my family too... every single person has their own distinct interests. My aunt is talking about football, my mom is talking about the cooking, my father talks about politics
Can you imagine this? Because not only are all of these topics so vastly different, but they're all being discussed simultaneously. No one is even trying to listen to one another. It's just a cacophony.
Also, they're eating turkey which is known to cause drowsiness. So now everyone - except me - is clearly going to go zonk out and I'll be sitting here wondering, "Why exactly is this is a family day again?" over a lull of snoring. For real, for half of our dining experience I wanted to stand up, hover over the table and turkey and - in the voice of the Wicked Witch of the West - channel that scene from Wizard of Oz when they're running through the bewitched poppies and say, "Turkeyyyyy! Turkeyyy will put them to sleeeeeeeep!"
I picture a bunch of Butterballs plummeting from the sky and dotting the landscape, an extremely disturbing sedative from the heavens.
I really don't know what to make of being home. It's a mixture of nostalgia, excitement, raging cynicism, disgust, and complete loathing.