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Call me antisocial or the reason for the collapse of family values, but I am about to be tormented with yet another family gathering today. First my cleanaholic, paranoid mother will clean the house from top to bottom. Then she screams frantically that there is a single cat hair attached to the back of the couch. Incidentally, the back of the couch is against the wall. (see also cleaners, paranoia) After being subjected to weeks of the woman screaming like a banshee that the house will not be clean, you are then forced to the real torture begins. I starts when old Aunt Bertha comes in and squeezes your cheeks and tells you how much you have grown even though the only growing you have been doing for the last three years is out. I suppose she will sill do this when I am 42. Then you have to go partake of the feast consisting of chips and a veggie tray. This is supposed to feed you for the entire day. Then after the "bountiful" feast you have to sit there and listen as your mother and your aunts all get together and laugh hysterically about the time that you fell off the roof and broke your collar bone. If this doesn't sound like the most exciting day then I don't know what does. |
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