Sunday, November 14, 2010

Trying To Do Thanksgiving

Man that hot dog costume turned out good.  I haven't written in a while, and I have some time to kill until Boardwalk Empire.  Since I last checked in, Chuck and I went to North Carolina to visit Mom and Dad and take Dad to a Saints game.   The trip turned out pretty darn good.  High points included watching old movies and slides.  Low points mostly had to do with Chuck blowing it from time to time.  He just kept making the wrong moves.  Also, on the way back from Charlotte, my dad told Chuck and I an assortment of stories from his youth.  After two or three, it became clear that he was just stealing themes and concepts from John Denver lyrics and turning them into a childhood.  Which was fine.  But I could see right through him.

Then I got back and Chelsey and I attended our first Nebraska game together the following week.  The Nebraska game was fun, except when we were walking in I got a little claustrophobic and asked Chelsey to stop touching me.  This was not well received.  I find that as I get older, I get weirder and weirder around crowds (and in general).  I hate being stuck in traffic  I hate being stuck in big crowds.  I hate all that stuff.  It makes me want to chew my arm off or something.  But once we got into the game I was fine, and Chelsey forgave me, and we had a nice time.

The next day Chuck and I went to a Creighton basketball game.  When we got to our seats, some lady was sitting in the seats and told Chuck that they were planning on spreading out for the game, and that we could sit elsewhere.  I hated this, but excepted it, because I didn't want to be mean about her stupid "I've made a decision that is totally going to put you out" ways.  Then I guess she changed her mind, and her and her daughter went to sit with her family.  The rest of the game is spent dodging the balloons of her two toddler daughters, and trying to act like I'm not annoyed by her kids.  Eventually her and her family end up coming into our row, going back to their row.  Splitting between the two rows, and finally both parents end up in our row, with the two toddlers unaccompanied and sitting in front of Chuck and I.   This last part made no sense to me.  Both Chuck and I wanted to kill the entire family.

Lastly, I believe Thanksgiving will go down like this this year:  Mom and Dad in town.  Dinner at our house.  Saints game on that night.  Many pies.  Grandma in.  Grandma out.  Lots of crockpots.  I hope it goes ok.

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