Sure, she looks sweet …

Sure, she looks sweet …
Thursday, Nov 27, 2008

Beware, though. Bing is not all sunshine and light (though she does cook a mean Thanksgiving dinner). She’s my mom. She knows I have bird issues and every year she graciously cooks our delicious holiday bird. (Isn’t this a great picture? Can you see how much my kids love her in the background? But, still she’s got a mean streak!)

I, like others before me, was lulled in by her kindness and seeming good will. We arrived this afternoon – like a giant happy pie parade. Two pumpkin, one apple, one oreo and and one decadent ginger/pumpkin cheesecake in hand.

Upon delivering the pies, like all the other sane people there, we headed out to the back porch for an amazing arrangement of snacks. I visited with people. OK, visited is a strong word. I stared at people in my angry way and I ate a pound of olives, topped off with a pound of fresh mozzarella.

Mike and my mom tend collaborate on Thanksgiving dinner, they leave me out because my solution is always take-out. I left them to mess with the details. My mom has always called Mike the daughter she never had. Feeling useless, I took it upon myself to supervise the snack table. Someone had to do it. I wasn’t very good at it. I only really watched the stuff I wanted for myself and whenever someone happened upon that stuff, I commented on the sodium levels or, if it was a little kid, I made a scary face until they cried and went away. Overall, though, I think I was helpful as a snack attendant.

(Note to self, add snack attendant to your resume for when the kids abandon you and you are forced to seek outside employment.)

Eventually, I headed back into the house to see if I could do something useful that did not involve cooking. I was steered directly to the dining room to light candles and basically get the hell out of the way. I came back to the kitchen, this time from a new side. Once again I was shooed away and told to come back for clean-up duty. I went back to the porch to count olives and generally make people feel bad about snacking.

I helped clean up after our delicious meal. Still, people were laughing. It was only at the end of the night when I went to put some leftovers in my beloved mother’s fridge that I saw (insert Psycho music) THIS:

My own mother took hours of her life to paint this. Why? To taunt me! It had been hanging over my head the whole evening. Gah!

I’m sure she added extra pinfeather thingies to its head just to super-skeeve me out. I may never eat again.

So there you have it. Delcious dinner. Great company. Very cute, funny wee people running around (Lord, I don’t miss those days!). Evil bird on the fridge stalking me. I’m sitting here with half of a pie in front of me trying to quell my fear. I may need to wake Mike to go get me more whipped cream.

Thanks, Mom. I’ll be sure to remember this.

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11:17 PM (UTC -5)

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