I think the Scrooge in me has finally reared his ugly head. Maybe it’s because I am coming down off my monthly hormone festival, or I’m just tired of the usual familial bullshit.
I realize that being vegetarians makes Snowflake and I outcasts in this high cholesterol, walking rump roast, beef fed enclave, but once again we have to endure it with a smile for the sake of being with our kin.
Mother calls to say that Big Pappy wants filets and twice baked potatoes for Christmas Eve. What else is new? My father lives to eat. From pictures like a timeline, you can trace his financial girth with the physical. She was wondering if she should pick up some Philly Steak veggie burgers for Snowflake and myself.
Oooooo, yummy. I can hardly wait. How forking festive. Don’t forget the Spud Puppies!(organic tater tots) I called her back and said, “We’ll just come over AFTER you’re done eating”.
”Isn’t that what vegetarians eat? What’s the big deal?!”, she sarcastically chirps.
“Yeah, mom. That’s ALL we eat. Veggie burgers, veggie burgers, veggie burgers!”
“Well, do you still want us to come over tonight? Because I’m not coming over for bitching!”
“You know what, screw it. Don’t come over. Good Bye”, I said.
Leave it to me to just ruin the Holidays. According to family statistics, I seem to have a knack for it. I definitely don’t want anyone to “come over for bitching”. I mean that’s just hilarious fodder for me. It’s like some back holler hillbilly thing. Welcome to my world.
Y’all come back now, ya hear!
vegetarians, beef, family, holidays, angst
