Thanksgiving

  This year, I thought I would be generous and cook Thanksgiving dinner for my mom. We have this tumultuous relationship. Generally, she does something bad or batshit crazy and I don't speak to her for awhile. This tends to involve alcohol, which makes her a nasty person. I remember when I lived in Columbus, I would answer the phone and just hear "You fucking bitch! I hate you!" as soon as I picked up the phone. Must be mom, I'd think. In the past few years, she's really curbed her drinking. This is all due to Viggo. I told her she can't see him if she's drinking. She honestly loves him very much and quit for him. As a reward for her good behavior, I offered to cook dinner for the three of us.   You know, Thanksgiving dinner that I haven't cooked in over ten years. I've been graciously invited to many friend's family's dinners and have been spared having to cook. One year, I did make the best dinner ever. However, my only witness is Bob. That damn turkey was succulent.
  I wish I could say this dinner was a repeat performance. Not the case. First off, I forgot to buy a freaking pie pan. Exhausted after working nine hours, I didn't go back out. Fuck it, I'll use whatever. I ended up using a baking pan. That involved making two pie crusts to cover it. The turkey came out just right. Noodles weren't bad. The mashed potatoes were horrendous. I made them from scratch and added way too much milk and not enough salt. As we're eating, I notice my mom is picking at her food and Viggo just gave up halfway and demanded a sandwich. I, however, had three plates full. I guess those two get regular, home-cooked meals. Viggo also busted my balls for forgetting Cool Whip for the pie. My mom declared it was all delicious, but I know when she's lying. "A" for effort there, Mom. I'll take sober lying over drunken belittlement any day. Viggo eventually ate more of his dinner. My thick crust and lack of whipped cream was a deal breaker for dessert, though. I sent Mom home with some plates of food. I'll eat the rest, no complaints. It beats Ramen noodles. After work tonight, I came home and stuffed my face full of bland potatoes and turkey with noodles. This apartment is like a rural, Mexican village- food doesn't go to waste.