This year my grandparents, and two aunt and uncle pairs were at our house for Thanksgiving. My brother has been living in Montreal since 2002, and I’m the only one who he’s told is gay. He has asked me to not tell the family. He felt he needed to tell one of us, but he would like to be the one who tells everyone.
So anyway, we’re all sitting around the table, most of us have finished. One of my uncles, who’s pretty drunk, decides it’d be a good time to start telling some jokes. He cracks one about gay guys, and I say, before I could stop myself, “Careful, you’ll upset Tim.” Man, you should have seen the look on Tim’s face, he could have killed me with his eyes if one of my aunts hadn’t asked him if he had anything to share. He said, coldly, that he did. He then told everyone that not only had I gotten my girlfriend pregnant, but another woman from work. Last time I get drunk and share stories with my brother…
Well, to say the least my parents were distraught, and I was forced to leave town. I was sent to live with another aunt and uncle. So I bought a plane ticket and was off. When I got there I whistled for a cab and when it came near the licensplate said “Fresh” and had a dice in the mirror. If anything I could say that this cab was rare But I thought nah forget it, yo holmes to Bel-Air! I pulled up to a house about seven or eight And I yelled to the cabby “Yo, holmes smell you later” Looked at my kingdom I was finally there to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air
What’s sad is, I got all the way to the, “Fresh” line before I caught on.
Anywho, I wouldn’t have outed your brother that second.
Same here. :smack:
Nitpick: It’s “homes”, not “holmes”. Homeboy -> homey -> homes.
I can’t believe that my thread inspired another thread. This is a huge first for me and a very special day in my SDMB life.
Congratulations, Zebra. Try not to forget all the little people involved in this success. 
We had a surprisingly low-key Thanksgiving. Could have been a lot worse.
My grandparents let me bring my dog to their house - which I thought would NEVER happen because my grandma (step-grandma I guess) is an old school farm girl and dogs belong outside. But Dolly got to come and she was ok.
My aunt and uncle, who have made it clear that they’re getting a divorce next year when Aunt finishes school, were pleasant to eachother. Aunt also managed to stay awake the whole time instead of moping off to the other room for a nap as she usually does.
The only “real” drama was sort of made up after the fact. My unwed, jobless, pregnant cousin was slightly hurt by the fact that my grandparents didn’t ask her how she was feeling etc. My family decided it was because my grandparents are big-time Mennonites and that’s just not something you talk about outside of immediate family - grandma’s brother and cousin were also in attendance.
I think they just like to stir up drama. No one can just have a good time and relax anymore.
You like me. You really like me.
Or maybe CynicalGabe read my thread and thought “hey, this would be interesting if it was about something else.”
Our drama was low-key.
The Teenaged Terror was home from college, and brought a boy over for Thanksgiving. And apparently, he’s not just a boy. He’s A Boy. One that she likes a lot.
He lost major points with me because he has piercings, but overall he survived the interrogation with only minor damage , so we’ll see what happens as time marches on…
An old one, my Aunt died a few weeks before Thanksgiving when I was 6 or 7. My big hearted Mother who cooked just well enough too keep my family from malnutrition decided to have everybody over for the holiday. It was going to be exciting, they put the ping pong table in the living room to seat the 30 or so people that were coming.
I woke up with chickenpox.
Gave it to a few cousins, one of which left for boot camp in two days.
He spread it to a whole buch of guys in his platoon before they caught it.
As always, it was an interesting Thanksgiving at my house…
My 90 year old grandmother decided she just HAD to talk about her poo. :eek:
We all now know the size, consistency, color and shape of her poo. She did this at the table, I might add. We really didn’t want to know HOW she knows the consistency part…that was TMI for us, and we had to finally yell to stop her from relaying that bit of information.
She then said to us that, “No one cares about me!” :rolleyes:
Next, she was angry because she wasn’t the center of attention, and kept yelling, “Look at me! Look at me! I’ve got EVERYTHING wrong with me!” This from a woman who takes NO medications of any kind, since she is in perfect health, other than her mind being shot to hell.
She kept asking everyone very personal questions about their lives, work and family. When no one gave her a straight answer, she got angry all over again.
Nothing that I made ‘tasted right’ to my grandma. The pies had too much cinnamon. The turkeys were ‘too big’ and too dry. The dressing had too much sage. The potatoes had too much butter. The corn was too salty. She said that I shouldn’t have made a chocolate cake, since she doesn’t like chocolate, etc., etc. Even though everyone else came to my defense and said that all the food was very good (everything was eaten and enjoyed by everyone except her), she found fault with it all. She’s never happy with anything that anyone does, unless it’s for her own benefit.
She kept asking my nephew (who is shy to the point of it being some sort of mental illness thing, I believe), “Why don’t you want to talk to your Aunt Mary?” She’s NOT his ‘aunt’. She’s his great-grandma, for Og’s sake. The poor kid looked ALL confused. I had to point that out to her. She was NOT amused that she didn’t exactly know who she was in relation to her great-grandson. She tried to cover it up by saying, “Well, you KNOW what I meant!”
My grandma kept trying to stick her nasty, used fork and spoons into the serving dishes, when each serving dish already had a serving spoon or serving fork in them. We had to stop her many times from contaminating the food with her utensils.
She couldn’t find her cigarettes after dinner was over. She demanded that people go outside and look for them, since she was positive that she dropped them coming up the walk or dropped them on the front steps somewhere. It was a bitterly cold, cloudy and windy day, and there the guests were, outside, looking for her cigarettes.
When no one found them, she then thought that she lost them in my dining room or my living room. She had people looking in those places, too.
No one found them.
You know why?
Because they were on her kitchen table. She forgot to pick them up when she left her house. She called me to tell me this after she went home. She was amused to the point of giddyness. We, on the other hand, were NOT.
The food was good, and all the family was great, aside from my grandma, who made the entire day sheer hell.
I think she is the reason I drink so much on the holidays.
I can’t WAIT until Christmas… :o
I woke up around noon, went for a bike ride by the Bay Bridge, came home and watched a few episodes of Firefly, then went to a bar with some friends- a bar we figured we wouldn’t run into old classmates who were in town for the weekend.
We’re not big on family. :shrug:
Surprisingly calm at mine this year. Just me and my lil sis, and my big sis, her hubby and kid with my Mom and Dad.
Usually my lil sis and I get the “I just hope you get married before I die” speech from Mom, and the “Go to church, and dont have pre-marital sex” lecture from Dad.
The toddler proved to be a useful diversion to prevent this reoccurance.
My Mom did manage to tell us about all of our High School pals that stuck around the lil’ town and all of their babies. Then she explained which girls were still thin and pretty and if their babies were fat. Yes thats right, if it were up to my Mom, all babies would be on a diet and in Beauty Pageants.
Then she bragged about how little she was eating and made comments about the quantity of food on our plates.
“gotta stay thin if we are ever gonna catch a man!”
It is no wonder I am a nutjob about food and diet!
nonacetone’s story reminds me of something else about my family’s Thanksgiving. After dinner, we all retired to the living room to watch a movie. Except my grandma, who gets up at 4 a.m. everyday and therefore is horribly cranky and must have a nap by 2 p.m. But before she could nap, she had to sit in the other room and hock big old lugies (sp?) for half an hour. It was disgusting. I was the first to hear it. I was trying to ignore it and not throw up the five pounds of food I’d just eaten, and then she did a really loud one and everyone heard. I looked at my mom and whispered, “Make it STOP!” That got everyone else in the room giggling. Good times.
Heh, your mom sounds a little like mine. She’ll make two kinds of stuffing, have three kinds of rolls, mashed potatoes made with real cream and real butter, two kinds of sweet potatoes, and six kinds of dessert. She’ll insist you try everything, going so far as to actually put food on your plate (even after you tell her you don’t like sweet potatoes - 41 years of telling her I don’t like sweet potatoes! - but I digress).
Then she’ll ask how your diet is going. :rolleyes:
Swell. Now I’ve got to just lie awake and wonder.
My grandma has been doing that since I can remember; I’m told she actually has been doing it for longer than that. She’ll build a sentence with 6 pronouns and no nouns, or with no verb, or jump subjects in mid-breath. Well, she knows what she’s talking about, so how come YOU don’t know? When we complain, she says “well, I talk for intelligent people!”
When Mom or her sister hint at that kind of behaviour, we tell them “hey, rein back there! Subject, verb, complements please, and don’t you dare tell me you talk for intelligent people!”
Boys with piercings are better prepared for marriage than other boys. They’ve experienced pain and bought jewellery.
Rita Rudner, right?