I just got back from spending my first Thanksgiving with my family in several years. It was delightful. Seriously. I arrived Thursday afternoon. They had already eaten but there was plenty of food left for me. Just as I finished my dinner my grand-niece (good god!) arrived, at which point my brother and his wife (grandma and grandpa) were done for. Particularly my brother. My grand-nephew is actually the younger of the two, and trust, he got plenty of attention. But it's the girl that reduced my brother to a useless pile of goo. She's started talking and she's in that hysterical phase where she goes from baby talk to complete, adult sentences. She was a little standoff-ish with me at first, but warmed up eventually. Our relationship was cemented when I played Sully to her Boo. Screaming and running ensued. Nothing makes an infant love you faster than being willing to make a total ass of yourself. I got some great pictures.
I also spent lots quality time with my much loved niece. She's twelve now going on 21. Even before her mom died, we shared an uncanny bond. And time apart and dearth of visits don't really seem to affect that. We've had some rough patches, especially when she tried to see how far she could push me, answer: not far. But that's all water under the bridge, and now we take up where we left off no matter how long it's been. When she was younger, I used to think I reminded her of her mom. As she's gotten older, I'm starting to think our bond is because we share a lot of traits. She's moody. I get moody. When she's off from school on a weekday she watches Charmed and then back-to-back ER. It's spooky I tell ya. We popped out on Friday and saw Happy Feet. We had a great time. I got the impression that certain members of my family bring in outside candy and "pop" to the movies. I couldn't impress upon her enough how vital popcorn and Milk Duds, as well as other non-nutritious over-priced concessions are to the movie going experience. The movie itself, only so-so. But the musical numbers were great. We walked home having a nice chat through what was apparently Harlem, Tonawanda, as my mom was waiting for us at the door, about to dash out the door searching the roadside for our lifeless bodies. In a car, of course.
I ate far too much and in addition to the Thanksgiving feast there were multiple helpings of pasta with mama's sauce (my grandmother taught her), stuffed artichokes, apple and chocolate pie. The racist "humor" was kept to a minimum. It turns out my dad thinks that George Bush is an idiot and an embarrassment. Guess that explains the election results. They lost the vaguely bigoted white middle class elderly vote. We spent an inordinate amount of time talking about poop. Ours, each other's and our animal's. I helped mom and dad decorate outside for Christmas.
I got back to New York around 11 pm. Jet's babysitters left a note saying he had behaved well and after skipping food the first night, was bribed by some raw egg in his bowl to eat the next. He was so excited to see me he ran around my legs peeing as he wagged his entire lower body. I didn't mind in the least. It was the pee of love. I petted and hugged him until the entire living room floor was covered in dog hair. And some pee. I took him for a long walk and then tended to my neglected Stoli bottle. I woke up several times during the night just to sit up and give him a couple affectionate pats. The dog, not the bottle.
Much thanks for the holiday E-mails and comments. They were most welcome.
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