In the Trenches: The Road to Turkey Day (Part 2)
I spent Tuesday night tossing and turning because it's so goddamn hot in this house (the AC is broken). Sleeping with the window open isn't an option because it faces a noisy street and has no screen. It's amazing how hot an enclosed 10×10 room can get with two adults and three dogs.
After rolling out of bed at the crack of noon on Wednesday (a bit early for me on my days off) I started training the parents on the Wii. I got them Super Paper Mario because they seem to have enjoyed the whole Mario/Yoshi/Donkey Kong saga. As an aside, I highly recommend the game. It has some very clever level design and utilizes a good combination of 2D and 3D gaming. It also pokes fun at video games in general by tearing down the fourth wall a bit. Trying to teach the parents how to use a new controller and a new game at the same time is not a fun experience. It's not just the button placement, it's also the whole motion sensing with the Wiimote. Apparently when you throw in anything new, they forget everything they've ever learned. "Go left. Your other left. Press the 'A' button. The one with an 'A' on it. This one. That right there. Press it. PRESS IT!!!" I'm also not feeling particularly patient at the time.
We eventually head out to Red Lobster for lunch, a staple in my parents' diet. We get there and they're immediately pissed off because their usual array of waiters aren't working. They go through their usual routine of ordering and cap it off with numerous requests for lots of extra piña colada sauce for their shrimp. About 3 months or so ago they discovered this stuff and it must be like old people crack. They each get a mere 1/3 of a cup of this sauce with their meal. I watch as my mother dips her shrimp in this stuff trying to get as much as physically possible on and around the shrimp. She finally runs out with about half her shrimp left. She gets another one and when she's done with her shrimp she eats the rest with a fork. Yum. They recommend that I try it, but honestly its addictive powers scare me. I'm better off not knowing some things. I suggest next time they should see if they'll just bring them a soup bowl full of the stuff and they can forgo the rest of the meal.
After eating we have to go by Marie Callender's to pick up some pies. Since there's only four of us at Thanksgiving this year three pies should cover it. Traffic is backed up getting into the parking lot. I mention that I don't want a pie for me next year. This somehow baffles my dad who starts ranting, "Let's not get any pies next year then. He doesn't want a pie. I guess I can't have a pie." "Do you even eat any of these pies," I ask. "Me? No, I can't have any. You know I've got the diabetes." Of course, somehow they don't have my mother's pie order anywhere to be found. We wait a few minutes and they make it all right by stealing pies from some other poor bastard's order.
We get back to the house and my parents play with their new toy while I blog about yesterday. Their friend that was supposed to have fixed the air conditioner in the first place shows up and fixes it again. He then hauls ass out of there. I finally realize it's fixed and turn on the AC to find that it's as loud as a motherfucker (which I understand can be quite loud). I tell my parents it seems to still be broken and they decide to take the matter up after the holiday. In the meantime they're hungry again. Let's all go to Bill Miller's! Neither Lisa nor I are hungry, but I decide there's alway room for hash browns. I turn off the AC as we leave because I don't trust things that are so obviously broken to run in my absence without bursting into flames. Let the dogs pant.
We get to Bill Miller's and I just get a pint of hash browns. As I'm at the counter getting some of their BBQ sauce for my hash browns (that's just how I roll) my dad just walks behind the counter and starts grabbing "to go" boxes (he likes to get that out of the way early). As several employees exchange baffled looks with me, I mention that they probably don't want him back there and he just mutters, "I don't care." Later I find two bones that look like chicken ribs in my hash browns. I can only assume some angry employee spit them in there not realizing they didn't belong to that crazy old man that keeps coming behind the counter.
We get back to the house and the air conditioner doesn't work. It won't even come on now. It's a bit of a mixed blessing since the cool front has now come through the area. It's down to 75 in the house and my parents are wishing the central air worked so they could turn on the heat. Unfortunately they won't get the benefit of peripheral oven heat from the turkey cooking because my mother cooked it, carved it, and froze it a week ago to "save time." If you've never had week old previously frozen turkey for Thanksgiving I don't want to spoil the surprise for you, but it really is as good as it sounds.
One more day to go. I think I just might make it out of here alive.
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