My parents were up here for a quick visit this past weekend, before they try to cheat the seasons again, and chase warm weather all the way to the southern tip of Florida, or whatever.
Their visits aren’t too bad, especially compared to others we have (and will) endure. They try to be good guests, and it’s appreciated. Just an effort is usually enough. Ya know?
They offer to help us clean-up after meals, for instance. While Sunshine just walks away when she’s finished eating, with her dirty plate still sitting there, and without even bothering to shove her chair back under the table. Man, that really bakes my beans…
Nancy and Nostrils sometimes insist on helping us with the dishes, but always (always!) break something. And it’s usually a painful item, like a pub glass from London, or one of my favorite coffee mugs. They have a special talent for excruciating destruction.
Truthfully, I don’t really even want any help. I just want someone to offer, then get out of my way. That’s the best scenario, when it comes right down to it. An offer, even an insincere one, does the trick.
So, my folks’ stays at Jeff and Toney’s Bed and Breakfast Inn and Old Country Saloon usually feel like a slam-dunk, and this one was no different. I apologize in advance. I know it’s best when everything goes to hell. Sorry…
We took part in the normal “parents visiting” activities, including two restaurant meals, several semi-extravagant home-cooked meals, a Saturday swim meet featuring the grandkids, an inordinate amount of dog-walking, a visit to the mall, and lots of sitting around talking. And even though I had an extra day off from work, I feel like there was no weekend whatsoever.
You know, the usual.
On Friday we went to dinner at a neighborhood pizza/pasta joint, and it was very good indeed. And yesterday we went to lunch at Red Lobster, because my parents like to treat the Secrets to crab legs; they all get a kick out of the dismantling of crustaceans.
I only had a bowl of New England clam chowder and a salad, because I was still packed-out with breakfast biscuits. Shit man, there needs to be at least a minimum of digestion time between meals… Even a person of my size can’t just keep loading it in. Something’s gotta give, eventually.
After lunch I said I wanted to walk next door to the Verizon store, to take a look at the Droid phone. And all six of us dragged in there. The place isn’t very big, and we instantly made it crowded.
I checked out the phone, and it seemed great. I brought up the Surf Report, and it was a thing of beauty on that big screen. When I look at it on my current phone it’s a mess, but the Droid is like a tiny computer in your pocket. I’ve gotta have one. The only downside? Twenty-nine extra bucks per month, for internet and all the fancy stuff. That might be a tough sell. Very tough, in fact.
Then we went to Wegman’s to look for some kind of Kraft cheese, called Roka Blue. Apparently it’s used in a “cheeseball” recipe, and is difficult to find. I don’t know… I barely listen to that kind of thing.
While Toney and my Mom looked for the elusive so-called cheese I checked out the beer section, and ended up buying a six-pack of Breckenridge Avalanche Ale, out of Colorado. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all that spectacular, which is always a bummer. Life is too short for less than spectacular beer. I should’ve just gone with the Stone IPA, which is fantastic, and which I had in my hand at one point. Oh well.
After Wegman’s we went to the mall, and I snapped this photo of a man sitting outside Old Navy. I thought about buying a bag of Skittles and having a contest with the boys, to see how many we could toss inside the guy’s mouth.
On Saturday, after the never-ending swim meet finally ended, Toney and I went to the beer snob tavern at Cooper’s, where I had two pints of Fuller’s Mr. Harry Bitter. Yum. Now THERE’S a beer.
We also had their crab dip and nacho chips. God, how I love the beer snob tavern… I feel at home there, for some reason.
And yesterday my Dad and I (my Dad) replaced the light hanging over our dining room table. Toney hated the one that was there before, and wanted me to replace it. “I’d better wait until I have some help,” I kept saying. And she reminded me that I’d have some help this weekend. Yeah, she never forgets anything.
And sure, it looks great. But now the one inside our front door seems kinda dated in comparison — according to Toney. See how these things work? It’s no good, no good at all. I’ll be on a ladder, screaming profanity three feet off the ground, within days.
But the weekend was good, overall. My parents left this morning, and there were no arguments or teeth-grinding or door-slamming, or anything of the sort. Again, I apologize.
I have to go to work in a little while, but it doesn’t feel like a work day. I’m all disoriented, and discombobulated. And this week is going to be weird, too. We’re going to Toney’s cousin’s house for Thanksgiving, in a well-to-do suburb of Philadelphia. Very pinkies-out fancy…
And am I looking forward to it? No, not really. My face is already aching, in anticipation of the fake perma-smile I’ll have to maintain the whole time.
The food will probably be good, though. And Toney’s cousin’s family are nice, and decidedly non-Nancy or Sunshine-like. So, it’ll be fine, once we’re there.
What are you going to do for the holiday? Are you traveling, or having visitors, or none of the above? Are you serving anything unusual this year, or is it always the same? Tell us about it in the comments, won’t you?
And I’ll try to get my bearings back, and will see you guys again tomorrow.
Have a great day.
And for cripin’ out loud, during your Thanksgiving dinner, hoist one or three in memory of Louis Marshall “Grandpa” Jones, gone these eleven years, but apparently still able to post to this forum if my textual analysis abilities haven’t faded.
jtb
Driving five hours Wednesday night through rain and stupid drivers to get to the inlaws. Will try cooking everything the next day with about a million people and a few housepets milling about the kitchen, creating chaos. Will bite tongue while listening to looney tunes right wing bullshit, centered mainly around the idea that the apocalypse is coming because we have a black president. Will drive home Friday through snow and hungover stupid drivers. Rinse and repeat next year.
Well, at least we can all comfort ourselves in the knowledge that we don’t have Charlie Manson as our biological dad. Although if I had too choose between the two; I would choose Charlie to be my dad over Glenn Beck.
@ Gretchen
You just listed all of the reasons why I’m not going to visit my own in-laws this year. Good luck…
Veering off the topic(s) completely- Does anyone know why or WHEN Campbells Chicken Noodle ( regular, not Chicken Noodle Extreme, or Chicken Noodle Mega) stopped putting the little chunks of carrot and celery in their cans? It’s been so long since I have eaten it, and I am highly distraught over it.
On IPOD right now- “On Any Other Day”- The Police
Thanks, Retrollama. I’ll hoist a non-alcoholic beverage in your honor (I can’t drink this year; somebody hold me!).
Better than looney tunes liberal bullshit.
@jtb – Saaaaalute
Touche, Son of Sam. For the record, Going to the extreme left or right = looney tunes period, in my book. If I had to sit in a room with a bunch of Nancys I’d also be contemplating shooting my face off.
Just to be clear about what I’m talking about here, there’s a marked difference between saying “President Obama is taking this country to hell in a handbasket!” versus “That n***** president will bring about the end of days!” Only one holds the possibility of meaningful discussion.
Still not sure where the hell I’m going for Thanksgiving. I’ve ruled out family get-togethers; I’m playing in Erie, PA the night before and probably end up staying up all night drinking, etc. after the show. By the time I get back to PGH the next day I should be in rare form so I won’t subject the family to that. I’m pretty sure there’s a party that I’m going to that night though. Maybe there will be a leftover turkey wing there or something.
I’ll hoist a few beers for yinz guys. Enjoy the extended weekend (if you get one).
I’ve never heard of green bean casserole. Please do not ever bring it up again. What a waste of cheese.
Our Thanksgiving was 6 weeks ago. How does the “same” holiday land so far apart? Did the Americans change the date so that it would be closer to the football playoffs? Is it just too cold in Canada in November to give thanks?
I prefer our October date, keeps Thanksgiving separated nicely from Christmas.
Kevin, did a little wiki research. It would appear that the date Thanksgiving is held in both countries has been kicked around for a long time. The U. S. did not finalize the last Thursday in November until Lincoln did so during the civil war in an effort (I assume) to polarize the country.
Canada picked Armistice Day (Remembrance Day) as it’s anchor point only to seperate them 10 years later.
Down here we still have crops coming off so I imagine that may have something to do with ours being celebrated later.