Playgrounds, Turkeys, and the Art of Backseat Driving

Playgrounds, Turkeys, and the Art of Backseat Driving

I’d really meant to write an entry on Wednesday before my family and I escaped for the hills, but Wednesday was a really fucked-off day, and you’re lucky I even thought about this website for five seconds.

My folks and my brothers and I have spent every Thanksgiving for the past three years up at our fave white trash town-on-the-lake, Lakeport. We stayed at Skylark Shores Motel as usual, in good ol’ Cabin 122. Kevin and I took our regular room, and Cutter, poor thing, got stuck in the same room as the ‘rents like he always does. I only really pity him because dad has a chronic case of Nocturnal Farts. As soon as it gets dark and his head hits the pillow, his ass goes crazy, filling the room with noxious fumes and rendering anyone within a 2-mile radius completely unconscious.

If I was really nice, I’d offer to let Cutter crash in our room. But I’m not really that nice at all.

Thanksgiving itself was a little sunny in the morning, but quickly turned to clouds and light rain by lunchtime. We dragged ourselves around the cabin, taking as long as possible to get ready. It’s amazing how lazy we get when we’re on “vacation.” Our only goals that day: drive someplace outdoors so we could hike around, and pick up a bag of shredded cheddar. We accomplished both in a most tidy manner.

Every year Mom takes pix of us kids sitting around looking like something out of a JC Penney’s catalog so she can have something to give the grandparents. The “outdoors” we visited was one of the lakeside parks, and after my brothers and I horsed around on the playground equipment for a while, we came up with the bright idea to have our picture taken on the big spiral slide. Mom was ALL OVER THAT. I might post the pictures here. I might not. Either way, just know that my ass got soaked completely through during the photo shoot. No, literally my ass. My underwear even got soaked.

Fortunately for you, Kevin managed to snap a pic of me coming down the spiral slide on my own. Yay for stupidity!

We closed the night out with the traditional turkey dinner, complete with my totally tasty Twice-Baked Potatoes (you SO know you want the recipe!) and a rather amusing attempt at making stuffing without a proper measuring cup. Needless to say, the shit wasn’t fluffy. But it still tasted fantastic, so of course we inhaled it, along with everything else on the table (the napkins went down a little rough though).

Before dinner, mom and I set up an amazing array of h’ors d’ouevres (ok, so it’s not amazing…but mind you, there were only five of us). And then of course we all gathered ’round the table to raise our glasses, praise the God of Snackage, and take family photos. People must think we’re drunkards.

Almost forgot about the pumpkin pie. Oh the pie that was had. We had pie for breakfast, pie for dessert, and pie for breakfast again! It was a pie-stravaganza. Pie-apalooza. I shat orange for three days afterwards. Mom makes a mean pumpkin pie, and her pie crust is something of which angels sing and rays of heaven’s light shine upon.

After all that pie gluttony, we crawled out of town on Friday. But not before we stopped in to K-Mart to get Cutter a belt and dad some shoes. I’m so glad I don’t suffer from the MUST SHOP FOR CHRISTMAS TODAY!!! syndrome that befalls other folk the day after Thanksgiving. People are fucking nutty when it comes to shopping that day. I didn’t see any deals that day that were worth waiting in lines or shoving an old lady through a plate-glass window for. I must not get the whole concept of bargain basement shopping.

The best part of the whole trip was the fact that for the first time in years, I didn’t have to drive. No siree. Kevin drove his new car instead. And let me tell you, if I drove that badly when I was his age, I apologize now to everyone whose pants had been scared completely off as a result. I nagged him a little on the way up, and most of the way home. I think he’s going to stop offering to drive from now on. I told him that his need to act out all his chest hair and ball sweat while in a moving vehicle should be curbed as soon as possible. Otherwise he’s going to find himself careening down an embankment, feeling really silly and more than a little scared.

Obviously we made it home in once piece, but I’d like to think that my nagging had something to do with it…

Over the weekend, we drove up to Pollock Pines and Apple Hill to cut down a Christmas tree for my folks. But that’s another story entirely. I may or may not tell you about it today. Hell, I’m just now getting this entry up three days after the fact. It’ll probably be another week before I divulge tree-cutting details…