As we all know last week was Thanksgiving. A day of food and family and ours was right on par. My mom and her husband came up from Arizona and my stepchildren made their first solo drive from California to Vegas. My father, brother, and pseudo SIL also joined us. It was a smaller gathering than most but enjoyable none the less. Dave cooked his second Turduken and that shit was great. He made the first one last year but this year he really honed his technique. I don't usually like duck but, when it's layered with turkey, chicken, and stuffing it is awesome. Dinner went well (the eating time is always greatly disproportionate to cook time on Thanksgiving) and I would venture to say everyone had fun. At least I did anyway.
Friday we got the teenagers up at 245am to join the fray that is Black Friday. As readers who've been with me from the beginning may know I fucking HATE Black Friday. People act like crack smoking homeless folk when they hit those doorbuster sales. Everyone is wondering around in loose fitting sleepwear type garments with glazed eyes and slack mouths frantically grabbing up a bunch of useless shit that cost 40 bucks the day before but now in the wee hours of the morning is selling for 18.99. They then stand in 2 hour lines to run up their burgeoning credit card debt. The only reason I consented to another Black Friday outing was my husband's yearning for the 350 dollar red enamel 10 piece Claphalon cookware set that was selling at Kohls for 179.99. Dave always has something he needs come Black Friday. The nice thing is it's usually specific and at one store so we aren't wondering around in the mosh pit of shoppers all day.
After purchasing our new cookware set (which is beautiful and well worth the inconvenience) along with a few other items we ventured to the Target next door to "take a look". What greeted us was a line wrapping around the stupid store which we had no interest in standing in. That was when we made the decision to go home and get back to our original activity, sleep.
Before you say to yourself "Wow, what a tranquil and uneventful holiday Sabreena had. She is quite the lucky lady." be aware there was a trauma. You CANNOT have a four day weekend filled with family and glutenous amounts of food without drama. My mom and her husband brought their very old and very sickly dog with them for the weekend. By Friday afternoon I think the dog had just had it with my kids. My youngest Remy was being chased by his brother and ran over the old bastard who turned around and bit right into Remy's little leg leaving a nasty but non-life threatening puncture wound. I calmed my baby and cleaned him up explaining that the doggy needed to be avoided at all cost. That advice was not to be heeded.
Later that evening Dave and I took my stepchildren out for a little toddler free time. Upon our return home we found a note explaining that the dog had bitten the same child again but this time in the face. I aroused said child from his slumber to find his lip bloodied by what looked like 4 new bites (which looked deceptively worse that night). I did not panic and run to the emergency room which I am glad for because the next day the cuts were smaller and already healing. My mom on the other hand left early and feeling horrible. We closed out the weekend with couch time and a Superman movie marathon.
Now it is five days after the attack and Remy is fine. The puncture wound is struggling to close and his mouth is a little scabby but his condition is nothing compared to what it could have been. However, when asked how his Thanksgiving was Remy pulls at his lower lip and answers "The doggy ate my face". Ahhhh memories.
I woke up 2 for black friday, but quickly went back to bed as soon as i found out it was ten degrees outside!
ReplyDeleteAnd yeah, the dog biting my kid would have had me livid and wanting to kill the animal.