Where Was I?

I meant to write this entry hours ago but I forgot. See, I’m at an age where I forget things. This is completely germane to the topic at hand. This entry is specifically geared to anyone who has kids in their family. Guess what? The kids grow up. They actually have the audacity to get old. And, cranky.

Here’s my beef. Thanksgiving is a week away (get thee to a turkey market). We heard through the grapevine that the feast is being held in Northern Virginia at the better-half’s aunt’s house. The better-half had to finally fire off an email to his aunt to ask whether or not she was hosting, what time should we show up and to tell her we’d like to bring country ham. Then when the better-half told his mother that he’d finally heard from the aunt, his mother copped the “I thought I told you” plea. Sorry, folks. We’re adults. We need a DIRECT invitation or we’ll make other plans. Really. Last year was one of the best Thanksgivings since we got married because we spent it alone. I mean no offense to family members but, seriously, we’re torn asunder during the holidays trying to make everyone happy. Everyone else is happy and we just sort of shrug and say “eh”.

Just because we still have parents (thankfully) doesn’t mean that we’re still dragged to family events by our parents. We’re adults. We have jobs. We pay taxes. We own property. We’re weary just like you are. You invite your neighbors to come to the feast. Extend the courtesy to your family. Thus endth my rant. Stay tuned to the next holiday induced rant.

Speaking of–since when did the Christmas holiday start weeks before Halloween? Do we, as a nation, really just go from Labor Day to Christmas? It sure seems that way.