Maybe... Maybe not...

I'm getting a wee bit cranky where my father is concerned. The man is driving us all completely batshit insane.

First off, let me state that we always have Thanksgiving at our house. We invite a ton of relatives (we're talking about 15-20 something people, here) and my mom and I cook up a feast. All is good, all is happy. Why always us? We're the only ones in the family that can cook really, really well. I'm the one who makes sure that the turkey isn't dry-- something that no one else in this family is capable of, it would seem. That alone is worth the visit, I guess. And I'm the dessert queen. I don't make diet food. But I digress...

Every year we do Thanksgiving. It's just expected. It's how it's done. Then, this year, while my mom and I are discussing holiday preparations-- readying the battle stations and so forth-- my father grumps "We're not doing Thanksgiving." We ask why and get no definitive answer. Just a lot of wishy-washy babble that doesn't satisfy me. My mom clams up and gives me The Look when I argue (which is what I usually do. I'm the arguer/cage rattler/what have you.) and I grudgingly shut up.

Ok, that's not true. I never shut up. I know I should, but I can't help it. I did a lot of grumbling, glaring, pouting, etc. I made it clear that I would get my turkey, one way or another, dammit! I wanted my Thanksgiving dinner, family or no, and I was going to have it!! War had been declared. My mashed potatoes were at stake here, people! I had to fight! Then my mom got all clever/sneaky. She suggested to me that we have a family dinner on Friday and serve turkey and all of the usual Thanksgiving fare. Oh, yes, I love my mom's briliant, devious mind. I bow to the master!

Then, today, my father brings up Thanksgiving. My mom and I blink at him with complete "What the fuck..?" expressions on our faces. He tries to act all innocent, but I push (as usual) and he grumps "We're having Thanksgiving..and that's it!"

I give up.