Givin’ Thanks to Yah.

Last year I watched every episode of Golden Girls after watching random episodes here and there over the years.  By far one of my favorite shows. Sophia is the cutest thing and I want to be exactly like her when I am older.

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At some point tomorrow during dinner I’ll bring up how realistically we shouldn’t even be celebrating this holiday. I’ll make a comment on how the Massachusetts governor ordering an attack on the Pequot Indian Village in 1637 because he viewed them as ‘dangerous to the colonist’ killing hundreds of them.  Realistically we were the dangerous ones. The conversation will change into a debate on politics in a matter of minutes and I’ll start to eat what’s on my plate one food at a time (I don’t mix my foods. Like I don’t go have a bite of ham then mash potatoes. I eat the ham, once done I move on to the mash potatoes and then the next food). I’ll go on and make a remark that I believe is funny and my parents will tell me to straight up and behave because my sense of humor isn’t what everyone will be needing to hear at the time. Even though I am hilarious and everyone should be pleased to listen to my jokes.

My sister B came home for thanksgiving. I love my sister dearly but she’s a type A. Pleasing her seems impossible. She hasn’t lived at home in six years so when she comes home I feel like she’s intruding on my space. If leave something on the bathroom counter or my music is too loud she’s right at my door complaining. She has the personality that where she thinks she knows everything. What we all should be doing, how we should be living or lives, pointing out what I do wrong. I suppose it is expected, she is a Payne after.  Today, I got off of work early and they were like ‘yeah, go home hang out with your sister and have a beer.’ I told her that and she said that will never happen and she doesn’t know why I feel like need to drink.  When she came home last month she got snippy with me on how I have alcohol in my closet (note: I am two years over the legal drinking age here and that is just where I happen to keep my alcohol). Anyhow, we are blood and I love her despite how much she pushes my buttons.

IMG_3257I did some finger painting with C this morning. We made turkey handprints using his hand and some other pictures. He was fascinated by the whole thing. I am not sure what I expected when it came to painting with a two year old. Constantly dipping his fingers in all the paint, spilling it, closing his hand so we would have to repaint it. He was so excited each time he made a handprint so it was worth it.

Last year we did a friend giving. It was a mess. We had to improvise on the cooking so I mashed potatoes using a Titos bottle. We only had one pan to cook everything. When we managed to get to dinner the food was cold. We all decided to go out after. Half of them went home because they drank too much wine at dinner and were so far gone by the time we got to the first bar. I got to hold a girl in the pouring rain reassuring her she wasn’t terrible and her friend would be back she just went to get the car. We met a girl in one of the bars and went to some underground club Detroit with her. Some random guy that was standing on the street tagged along because Chad invited him. Our Uber got lost and we ended up at the border talking to border control having the guys in the back drunkly saying we were trying to flee the country and such. We skipped it this year because after that none of us really cared to put effort into all the cooking again.

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I had a ‘neighborsgiving’ today. It was last minute and we went to Olive Garden. I get the same food ninety percent of the time. I can order within two seconds of sitting down. ‘Big’ made me a drink since I complimented him on the one he did last time. It was delicious. The others didn’t agree so I got to drink theirs too. I’m the oldest of all of them and listening to them talk about their lives makes me like a nervous mother. (I know that they’re reading this and they know exactly what I’m talking about). I sit and look foolish because half of the time I dont understand the slang words they are using. When I meet someone I kind of just view them that age forever so they’re still little kiddos in my head. I constantly worry about them, especially Jessica when she’s away at school and I can’t keep an eye on her but I couldn’t be more amazed and proud of the people they have all grown into. They’re golden. If only they could realize it.

 

 

 

 

 

Published by

Harper

23. Michigan. Hella Lame.

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