Thankful for the Nerve

I sat on the couch and waited for the family to arrive. I could hardly watch the television my anxiety was so high. Every time a car went down the road I was peeking out the window. Every time I thought I heard something, it made me jump in my seat. Not that I wasn’t looking forward to them coming, but because something always seemed to happen every year at thanksgiving.

My Mom had worked very hard for my aunt, uncle and cousins every year, but not this year. She just seemed to sit and stare on her phone in the kitchen while my dad was blundering about. He looked like a blind man on an episode of iron chef and asking where something was every five minutes.

About an hour ago I was told to be on my very best behavior, as if I was going to be the one to start something this year. I told myself I was going to lay low and just try and have a good day. None of the other mishaps that happened every other year was my fault, but I’m guessing they had to make it a point to tell me to just behave anyway. It was a parents duty to do that I’m guessing. Still, whenever my aunt and uncle always came around anything was bound to happen and there was a first time for everything.

Last year my Mom woke up at five in the morning to get started cooking for her sister and her husband. When they got here they were carrying a white castle bag in their hands and proceeded to tell us that the drive was long and they were a little hungry so just had to stop for a snack. This was a huge slap to the face to my mom after she had paid for and cooked all the food to entertain them.

The year before that we went over to my aunts house. She lived in another state at the time so the drive seemed to take forever. When we finally made it my aunt disappeared for about thirty minutes. After she found what she was looking for she called everyone into the living room to watch her wedding tape, since it was her anniversary weekend. About the time she was walking down the aisle the tape cut to Dale Earnhardt’s funeral. My uncle had used that tape to record Dale Earnhardt’s funeral and I couldn’t help but burst into the most uncontrollable laughter I had ever felt in my life. I then got yelled at for being insensitive. My aunt and I both cried that day.

I seem to vaguely remember a time when they were over and my uncle picked up the whole stick of butter to butter his corn. No knife, no napkin, just strait up bare knuckle from fingers to butter stick. After he got done doing what he was doing at least he put it back in the bowl when he was done and it looked like a toddler had gotten a hold of some play dough. This made my dad exponentially angry.

This holiday really brings out the worst in my family. I say that because I remember a few years ago when everyone got done eating and it was time for my aunt and uncle to leave they started gathering leftovers. That’s when she took a three hundred and fifty dollar bottle of whiskey and when I called her out on it she claimed it was a mistake. “Oh honey, just a simple mistake, not that big of a deal.” She returned the whiskey but only about half of it, so she either chugged half of it in the car or poured out half in the yard for spite.

I wasn’t sure what was in store for this years Thanksgiving, or who would catch the blame, I just knew it wasn’t going to be me. My mom said she was not going to cook a turkey this year and I’m guessing the whole ordeal was extremely stressful for her as well as time consuming. Instead my dad said that he would cook the main course as long as my aunt and mom would provide the side dishes. That’s why he was in the kitchen, and he could grill a steak better than anyone I’ve ever met, but for the life of him could not boil water in the kitchen.

After hours of anticipation they finally arrived. My aunt an mom were sipping wine sitting in the dining room and being pleasant towards each other for once, I guess they really did miss each other this year. Dad was in the kitchen making making the lasagna from scratch. Since my uncle didn’t want to feel totally useless I guess he felt the need to grate the cheese.

My two cousins, younger than myself did they’re own part by fighting over the living room television remote. I hadn’t the heart to tell them I was halfway into the Alien Resurrection movie when they stole the remote in the first place. Still though nobody seemed to care that they were both screaming and horse playing right there on the couch. In my mind as long as I wasn’t the one who was instigating it then I was safe.

The remote didn’t really matter to me that much anyway. What I was worried about was my dad and uncle in the kitchen together. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of storm was brewing in there as the relationship between the two had always been a little rocky because of the two different types of personalities. However, they seemed to be tolerating each other, for the moment at least.

That evening when all the cooking was done, all the catching up had been caught up with and the younger cousins had came to an agreement and stopped the fussing, we all had the opportunity to set down and eat as a family. It actually felt nice. For about five minutes. That’s when my uncle thought it would be funny to bring up a memory of my very sweet, very passed away grandmother. He said some snide remark about the time she threatened to shit in the turkey if we wouldn’t let her watch her jeopardy. I nearly choked on my lasagna.

My dad who hardly thought it funny started yelling across the table “That sweet woman had Alzheimer's! How dare your bring her up like that!”

“I’m sorry rick, I just thought it was funny” said my uncle in an obvious attempt to back track.

That wasn’t good enough for ol daddy. No. to him the whole thing escalated very quickly and he was the one escalating it. “Do you want to take this out side?”

“No, I…” My uncle tried to speak.

“Yea, let’s take this out side. That’s exactly what we’re gonna do!” Dad went on. “Drop the fork you fat son of a bitch!”

“Nobody talks that way in front of my kids!” said my uncle. Except for him, he talked that way in front of his kids. He then tried to stand up but somehow when he did he must have stood a little too quickly or something must have gotten caught on something because when he did stand up all of the food on the table ended up in the floor.

After seeing this last straw act of war my dad’s anger showed through his eyes like laser beams. “Out side. Now!”

All I could really do at this point was watch two grown men fist fight in the front yard through the living room window. Oh what a spectacle for the neighbours. At this point both my mom and my aunt were on their cell phones and I’m assuming with emergency services or the cops, the pope anyone. Looking through the window from the outside my dad knew exactly what was going on when he seen both women on their cell phones so he yelled through the window “don’t worry I’ll beat his ass until they get here!”

After about six or seven minutes, which is an eternity for a street fight if anyone has ever cared to be in one, the cops finally show up in two different cruisers. Just in the nick of time too before both out of shape, out of breath midlife crises stricken men nearly worn themselves out on the whole ordeal.

When the fighting was finally over and the cops asked all of they’re questions and things seemed to have calmed down, my uncle had no choice but to leave with the officers. His face as they drove off seemed like just one big pit of sorrow. At this point ladies and gentlemen, I must assure you, he had it coming. I’m not just talking about him getting his ass handed to him by his in laws. It seems the law had finally caught up with him and there was no escaping this time around.

We all sat there in silence on the couch for a few minutes and my dad was icing his eyebrow when my sister walked through the door. She had a huge laundry basket full of Chinese food. As she shut the door behind her with her foot she says “What did I miss guys?”

I just looked at her and said “don’t look at me, I’ve kept my mouth shut up until now”