Fat Rock Holidays

Ok, Lemur Queen's turn.


Thanksgiving with the Fat Rock clan. I come from a small family. Most holidays are just Frank, Marie, Robert, and myself. We may be loud, we may be annoying, but it's safe, predictable, and calm. Well, as calm as the Queen Family gets. No cousins, no aged grandparents, no long car trips.

Then I married Fat Rock.

I should have known it was coming. At our wedding, we had 50 guests. 25+ were Fat Rock family members, 5 of my guests were family members. They are kind, welcoming people, but there are SO MANY of them. Uncles, cousins, grandparents, and various hangers on. And they are POLITE. What's their angle? I can interact with people on a professional level, which is a little cold for family, or I can interact as we do in the Queen household. At volume 11, speaking in insults and rude jokes. I have a feeling that this is equally inappropriate.

Back to Thanksgiving. Fat Rock's family lives in northern Florida, in a small resort town. We would be sleeping at the grandparents. So far, so good. I'm quiet and polite, and think that I can keep it up for another 3 days. Thanksgiving dawns, and we head out to the Turkey Trot. Yep, a Holiday is no reason to miss out on a 5k. One of the numerous cousins is also running the race, and I am pleased to announce I kicked her ass. Than it was off to find coffee.

You see, Fat Rock's grandparents are older (of course), and not in the best of health. This makes entertaining difficult, but as they are fine southern folk, they want to be good hosts. So for us, this means crappy coffee. I NEED coffee, it is part of my DNA, my rason d'etre, my only means of waking in the morning. We couldn't bring coffee in the house, as we may hurt grandparent feelings. So there we were 9:00 Thanksgiving morning, driving through a mostly-deserted beach town, desperately looking for a Starbucks.

"Don't they have coffee in this God-forsaken town?" Apparently not. I guess vacationers just drink all day, and sleep off the caffeine headaches on the beach. Finally we find a Starbucks, and pound down that lovely nectar. Thus re-energized, it's back to the house to prepare for the BIG event.

Thanksgiving dinner. With 20 people. And they watch football. And don't drink. Holy crap. I am doomed. I spy cousin and cousin's wife, and their new baby. Relief, that will take the pressure off. Oh no, now everyone is asking ME when we'll have a child. Briefly, I toy with the idea of saying "actually....." and patting my stomach, but decide that is a class A BAD IDEA.

Time for dinner. On the menu: Turkey, Ham (yuck), Shrimp (double yuck), Okra (ugh), Mashed Potatoes (yay!) Corn (yum, carbs!) Salad (good) Gravy (ok, or so I thought) Stuffing (ok #2 or so I thought) A little different than the Lemur Queen house, but I'll manage.

Turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, veggies and salad. Hmm the dressing is thicker and chunkier than I'm used to. Oh well, I guess not everyone uses the canned Peppridge Farms gravy.

Then I find out the truth. GIBLETS. Freaking GIBLETS. Turkey parts. I won't even even eat chicken with bones. AND it had an egg. With the yolk and everything. shiver. Thank goodness I didn't find out about this atrocity until after dinner. And luckily, I didn't have any of the stuffing. Which contained sweetbreads. Which have have on good authority, are COW parts.

So we survived. One holiday down, one million to go. Christmas will be at the Queen household, so be on the lookout for Fat Rock's interpretation of the festivities.

Lemur Queen