Hey Jakey,

I know, I know, dear heart. It's been a couple of Sundays since I've checked in. And to tell the truth, when I walked in the office today, I swore that I would NOT sit down and mess around with Blogger. I have sooooo much work to do. I haven't been here since last Tuesday, and I have a week's worth of work to do in the next two days.

But I *have* to tell you about your first Thanksgiving, no? We left here Wednesday morning and got to your grandma's house by one-ish. No sooner had we walked in the door, and she was already carting out rubbish for me to take home.

She's always done this, but just the past couple of years it's gotten really really bad. She'll run to a closet (or the garage, or one of their 15 storage sheds, or a kitchen cupboard, or one of the huge piles of crap that languishes in the hallway...), and produce a completely useless item and insist that I take it home with me.

Here's an abbreviated list of the things she tried to pawn off on me this holiday weekend:

* dingy white cable-knit sweater, size 8
* pair of rollerblades, men's size 10
* tambourine
* mug with a Christmas tree on it, still in original gift box
* blender
* relish tray
* two 12-ft long lengths of open-cell foam
* assorted self-help books from the late '60s
* a hideous "necklace" that her mother made in an arts and crafts class in the '70s
* 1000-piece puzzle with those vomitous Anne Geddes babies on it
* Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls dressed up for Thanksgiving

A year or so ago, I finally said "no" to the things that she was giving me. I mean, I have a garage full of big, black garbage bags full of the crap that she's "saved" for me. I thought that finally saying "no" would bring an end to it all. If anything, she has ramped up her efforts to empty her house of useless crap and funnel it all into mine.

And I used to be polite about it. "Oh, that's lovely, but no, I don't have the room. Thank you anyway!" has made way for a tight-lipped shake of my head and a steadfast refusal to look away from the tv.

I used to think that she was just being nice. Or her version of "nice." Now I think it's another one of her weird-ass passive-agressive ways of trying to drive people crazy. Like when she spends 12 hours making Thanksgiving dinner, then refuses to eat come dinnertime, because her ankles are all swelled up, or she can't eat with the medication that she's just taken, etc. etc. I have yet to see her sit down and eat a dinner, any dinner, that she has prepared.

Anyway, enough about her. Let's dish on her husband, shall we? He's only about 10 years older than your daddy. I've come to think of anyone younger than age 50 as being "around my age." So, M is "around my age." He's always so grumpy. He's a nice guy, just so... damn... grumpy. All the time. I'm always afraid that anything I say or do is going to set him off. And even his attempts to be nice seem like just that--attempts. Like he's trying real hard not to be grumpy. I like him fine... he just makes me uncomfortable. Like every visit is something he just (barely) tolerates. No, that's way harsh. Forget I said anything. He's a nice guy, just a bit on the grumpy side.

So there was a lot of family there this time around. Maybe around 20 people or so. And you were such a good baby. The night before, you screamed when you grandma and when your daddy's sister tried to hold you, and I thought we'd really be in for it the next day when everybody showed up. But I hardly saw you at all Thanksgiving day, you were passed around and passed around, and I don't think your feet hit the ground all day. And not a peep! I thought that Willis (Mike's younger and not-so-grumpy brother) was going to steal you and take you home with him.

Billy (Mike's older and more lecherous brother), didn't stare at my breasts when he talked to me, like he usually does. Maybe even he's grossed out by their splendid new nursing measurements. This was the first year that I got a hug from Shawn, Willis's son from a previous marriage. When I started going to these family things, he was 10 years old, playing flag football out on the street after turkey dinner. Nowadays, he's a luscious 20-year-old hottie going to auto mechanic school. Is it wrong to have untoward thoughts about your husband's stepdad's brother's son? I've always felt a special connection with him, because Shawn is half Asian, like myself, and we stick out at these family gatherings like sore thumbs.

They all thought you were the bees knees, though. Well-behaved and happy. Ohhhh, they don't know ya like I know ya!

The starter in my truck was acting up, so I didn't get to go gadding about town like I usually do on these trips back home. I made one trip to Whole Foods on Bascom and Hamilton, and your daddy stayed in the truck with the engine running, while I ran in and ran out. That was it for shopping, though. Oh, I miss Whole Foods. I walked in this time, looked around and thought, oh yes, these are my people.

Not a bad trip, overall, but three days was my limit. I'm allergic to the dog, so I have to sleep out in their RV in the driveway, and I can only spend one or two hours at a time actually inside the house, before my airways close up to about the size of a pinhole. It was particularly bad this time, probably because the house is closed up and hot and airless for the winter.

And I was starting to get cranky on Friday night, when I was getting wheezy, sitting at the dining room table, just trying to eat a frickin' turkey sammich, and everyone was sitting on their asses in the living room, shouting at you: Watch it, Jake! Careful, Jake! Oh, don't do that, Jake! You were getting in all sorts of trouble, but no one wanted to actually get off their ass and pick you up, just yell at you while you tottered around, eating the dog's food or falling into the fireplace. Sigh, I thought that a visit to Grandma's meant a few days of rest for momma. Sadly no. I wolfed down my sandwich, picked you up and plopped you down in daddy's lap, with a glare and a muttered, wheezy curse, and went and read in the RV for the rest of the evening.

So then we drove back Saturday afternoon, not knowing that it had been snowing here all day, and it took two hours extra just to get home, slipping and sliding on black ice all over the mountain on the way down.

But we're home safe and sound now. Overall, I think you had a pretty good time. Your daddy and I are a bit frazzled, can't wait to do it all over again next month at Christmas, ha ha.

Thank you for being so well-behaved and tolerant of us all! Love you!