dessert

Today

I had the deep NEED to go to F&E and get a dessert, but Lexi had to agree to eat it with me so I didn't feel like a total fatty.

I was staring at the bakery section when I was assaulted by one of those overly friendly people who just talk to you for no reason. And talk to you and talk to you and talk to you.

She wanted to tell me all about how store-bought pies don't have enough apples in them.

I told her that's why she should make her own

"Sorry but I'm not a cook," she replied.

I shrugged and went back to staring at the desserts. Tiramisu? Cupcakes? Cheesecake?

"But you're saying this as you look at prepared foods," she added.

I thought about slapping her. I simply grimaced.

She continued to tell me how her mother taught her about crust color and how that signifies a good pie from a bad one when looking at store-bought pies.

She even went so far as to make me hold the pie she was examining, to agree with her about how heavy it was.

Right as I was about to snap this woman's neck, I realized that she was wearing a soft foam neck brace. Someone else earlier this week had already done it for me. Apparently she did not learn her lesson and was continuing to talk off the ears of perfect strangers. So as to not force this woman to wear one of these, I walked away, lurking in the pasta aisle until it was safe to get a dessert.

Thanksgiving

It wasn't much quieter, but it was still odd. We haven't had a Thanksgiving that was just the four of us in a long time, not since the one year Jim was at the Willistons' (as he was this year) and Micah was still dating Bri and grandparents weren't expected for another three weeks. What I've noticed about my family is that we are very loud and when relatives from back East aren't over, we are not thinking about being on our best behavior.

Dad: so you missed a lot of great lines when you went to bed, hon. [referring to that horrendous movie we watched]

Mom: yeah? did they say "vagina" again?

Micah: ew, Mom, we're at the table, com'on.

Mom: I'm just saying!

Me: no, but they uh--

Micah: said much more colorful things

Me: yeah. that's a nice way to say it.

Mom: hmmmm.

Micah: I can't believe you said vagina at the table. It's Thanksgiving.

Mom: Well, if company were here, I wouldn't have, I'm just saying.

My dad shakes his head, smiling at his plate.

The day was great. Surreal even. We just hung out the four of us like our life used to be before anyone went to college. Before Micah was able to escape to Bet's house however, we ad to take a family picture for Christmas cards. Now, Mom decided to go back on her word because she had not put any makeup on. I raised my voice in protest. But it turns out that I'm the only one who read her email about taking a portrait. The men were completely oblivious.

Me: "For goodness sakes! You tell me to bring an extra shirt in case we don't match SO I DID. AND! I rolled out of bed at 11:39 and you said we'd eat at noon and I felt so bad cuz I was running late so I didn't even feed the cat! or eat breakfast cuz I had wanted to come over early to help but since I knew we were taking a family picture, I put my makeup on and did my hair and dressed nice and brought an extra shirt, like I said, and I was late, and now you're telling me that we're not going to take a picture after all?!"

My monologue inspired action. I wish I could have video recorded the proceedings. Dad, the director, sets up the shot, has me hold the white balance card, sets the timer, positions us on our marks and instructs us to look like we're coming in the door. He assures us there is a story to it and positions us slightly different each time telling me to stand in front and just turn on my "photogenia"

Me: my what?

Micah: "Photogenia"? Sounds like a link I can click on the internet.

Mom: what?

It's too late, I'm laughing so hard I'm crying

Me, through tears: hold on, take 5.

Dad: oh man. we were SO close! Micah!

Micah: I'm just saying!

Mom: I don't get it. Is that from that movie?

I get back in position in time for Micah to be attempting suicide via the light switch.

Dad: ok, one more. Last one.

Micah, quietly: it better be

Mom: did you just say BITE ME?

Me: mom! watch your language.

Micah: balls

Mom: I can't--!

Dad: penis!

I'm crying with mirth again

Mom: what was that for?

Me: are we starting a round of the penis game? In that case--PENIS!

Dad: ok, now that everybody's smiling....!

We smile until the double flash

Micah: i'm done. peace.