T-day Massacre

No, not really - but wouldn't that make for a great story?  Like "All was calm until Jim Bob and Bob Joe both reached for the last turkey leg..."  But that's ridiculous anyway because everyone know that rednecks (like me and mine) prefer friend chicken and ham to the "normal" T-day feast of turkey and over-processed gravy slime with the skin (oh lordy me, how I hate gravy skin!).  

However, since Harry is of a more gentile background than I, he and his little granny loaded up their Caddy's with the finest selection of perfectly roasted Turkey breasts, Cranberry chutney, stuffing mounds and even a pretty pumpkin roll and plopped it on my extra-large kitchen table for all to enjoy.  Unfortunately for Harry and his granny, I forgot to tell my sister and cousin to be on their best behavior.  So, in the middle of preparations for the feast to beat all feasts my sister, god bless her sailor-like soul, yells out "SH*T!" becuase she had either burned her hand or sliced her finger or some other minor blood-enducing event that shouldn't have caused the barrage of curses to fly from her over-glossed lips.    She meekly looked at Meme and, in her typical non-pausing speech, said "Imeandarn.  Darn!"

Later, my cousin, hell-bent on a tirade about - I don't know - tires or diamonds or some other product that he could get me " a good deal on" releaseda string of words that have not been put together since biblical times when the first cursewords were invented, or, at the very least, by Cartman on Southpark.  Luckily, Harry's grandmother is a bit hard of hearing and kept saying "What?  What did he say?"  While me and the rest of hillbilly hard-totin' fam just giggled and snorted and slapped our jean-clad knees while Harry was frozen, red-cheeked, trying not to look horrified and laughing in spite of himself.  My grandmother, on the other hand, heard every word and cackled like the Wicked Witch of the West while her eldest grandchild continued to curse like a salor-chiropractic hybrid.  

After dinner, we retired to the couches in my living room where Harry rubbed my feet and I quickly lapsed into my newly semi-permanent state of unconsciousness due to my being  - pregnant.  

HAPPY THANKSGIVING! (me with Gillian - circa 2003)

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