Tuesday, December 26, 2006

Another One for the Blog

So we're back to the grind after the pre-Christmas buildup/mayhem and Christmas Day Festivities.

I was glad to get home yesterday, but not so glad to come back to work. I had a little guilt from ONLY having about 28 hours of Family Christmas Madness,er, Visiting.

Obbie and I celebrated our Christmas on Saturday night with some gifts and a noshy type dinner. Baked Brie, mini-pierogies, steamed clams and kielbasa. Plus some cocktails and wine. A very nice way to spend the evening together.

On Sunday morning, I made several pieces of jewelry, and Obbie went out in the world to find another gift. No dice, and he was back early. We spent some time wrapping gifts, then got showered and left for Moms.

When we got there, she was in a state. Acting all hysterical and harried, she was cooking a 14 pound turkey in a big electric roaster and it wasn't getting done, her pies weren't ready, and the world was going to cave in on her head. She said the instructions said to roast the turkey at 185 for four hours. Obbie read the instructions to the roaster, and she had read them wrong....185 INTERNAL temp....as in 375 for 3-4 hours. Of course, it wasn't HER fault. When she wasn't looking, I cranked the temp up on the roaster.

She also had onion pies in the oven. (Onion pie is just cheese & onion quiche, but who am I to argue) She went upstairs to get cleaned up, and said, "Listen for the pies" No problem, I know what the timer sounds like. So after 22 minutes it went off. I dutifully took the pies out and put them on the top of the oven to cool. Ten minutes later, she comes charging into the kitchen, all aflutter, and moves the pies onto two cooling racks, muttering under her breath. (I didn't SEE them, or I would have put them on the cooling racks.) The woman who was staying with her chimes in, "Is there something you need?" and I interjected with, "No, I just don't know how to properly cool a pie." Mom swings around and sneers at me and says, "You've been just WAITING all day, WAITING since you got here, haven't you?" I didn't say a word. Had a lot of words, but didn't say any of 'em. I know how she is, and when to shut up.

After that, we had to go NOW. She had Obbie load up the still hot-still cooking turkey in it roaster ("unplug it first") while she and the other lady brought the pies and a huge pan full of stuffing. When we got there, the oven was full with hot artichoke dip and mashed potatoes. This did NOT set will with her, and she huffed around saying, "The onion pies HAVE to be hot! Did someone remember to plug in the roaster?" Basically, she just acted like an ass. The whole night was her interjecting stupid stuff into a conversation, and trying to be the center of attention. It was awful. Finally, after dinner, and the serving of the pumpkin pies (which were inedible because she didn't put sugar in them....) we all left. Joe and I went home after she did, because we were hanging out having a drink with the host. Nobody mentioned Mother's asshole act. When we got home, she was waiting for us, and we sat around the dinner table chatting. At some point, Obbie brought up our dinner on Saturday evening. He ran down the menu, and when he got to the Kielbasa, she says, "EEW! Kielbasa! I think it tastes like dead dog!!" Obbie and I looked at each other in shock. She finishes up the now rapidly dying conversation by saying, "Not that I've ever tasted dead dog before..." Oh for Gods sake. That was so surreal. We went to bed shortly after that, because it's pretty hard not to follow up a comment like that with something really snarky.

On Christmas day, she was fine. She wasn't acting like a lunatic or anything. Obbie and I talked about it on the way home last night, and we surmised that she was pissed that SHE wasn't running the Christmas Eve show. She's had it at her house for years, and has been the center of attention for the longest time. This time she wasn't, and was trying to orchestrate a dinner party at someone else's house. Which you do not do. She should have just relaxed and chilled out and enjoyed the party instead of trying to run it. Do you think I'm going to tell her that? I think not.

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