Elise and I had a nice Thanksgiving weekend. As it’s been for the past four years now, we go to my parents’ house on Wednesday night, stay the night, eat, eat and eat on Thursday, wake up on Friday and drive to Grandma B’s house in Okeene, OK. I am finally to the point where I can blend in among Steve’s (Elise’s dad) 57 siblings and their offspring. This annual reunion and feast consists of approximately 741 people. Hungry people. Hungry people in a small farm house.
I really enjoy hanging out with Elise’s family. It was rather hard for me the first couple years seeing how I actually don’t have a family. I was spawned asexually by something. Judging from my overall physique, I would venture to say I am perhaps the bi-product of a praying mantis. Or maybe some type of starved albino primate species. I wouldn’t really know because I never had a parent who could sit down and explain to me from where I came. I only know this based on the limited genealogical knowledge I have gained from Google. The people that I call my parents are actually a nice couple who immigrated from Madagascar in the 50’s and used my existence as a tax write off.
I always have a good time hanging out with my brother-in-law, Eric. He and I spent hours in the basement, talking and playing Cricket on the electronic dart board. Saturday night Eric told cousins, uncles and yours truly stories or yore – of picking blueberries and cranberries in the Northeast, flipping a car sideways into the air and wedging it between two trees and tales of a trip to Jamaica.
On Sunday morning we headed out. Elise drove most of the way home. I took pictures. We stopped in Dallas for a potty break and I took the helm. Sunday after Thanksgiving traffic between Hillsboro and Austin can make for a pretty worn out clutch leg. The last week in November can make for a pretty expanded waistline.