Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays, mainly because it is the one holiday during which I know that my family will be cooking a feast and we will all sit around and gossip about any and everything. Every year, it reminds me that I should be thankful everyday for the people I have in my life, especially for my truly amazing parents.
My mother is one of the most complex individuals I know — which means she is a complete loca. She sacrificed her youth, flawless skin and tight limbs to birth me and my siblings, and for that and so much more I love her unconditionally. But with every mother comes the annoying habits and flat out outlandish demands: don’t let me forget to text her back or not acknowledge a new pair of jeans or forget to send her a picture of what I’m wearing, nor can I state my opinion without being immediately asked whether or not I’m okay, which is code for, “Do you have an attitude?” It’s an argument that just isn’t worth the hassle.
This past weekend, though, she was too funny. My sister and I were talking at the kitchen table about what we were getting her for Christmas when I mentioned that she asked for a Michael Kors bag. My sister proceeded to tell me that she asked for gold hoop earrings. So once my mother re-entered the kitchen we asked her for the truth and were met with the lovely but completely false reply of, “Oh! I just want my children to be happy with their presents; that’s what I want for Christmas.” Seeing straight through her we persisted, and she relented that “some sterling silver hoop earrings would be nice.” After one last push came the Michael Kors bag reply. Let’s just say my sister, father and I have some discounts to look up.
When she wasn’t lying about what she wanted for Christmas, she was the loving mother that she always is, rubbing my back with Bengay when I tried to lift something heavy, taking the car to the casino, leaving my dad and I stuck at home unable to go to IHOP, trying to win money for us. Constantly telling me how much I have grown and that she loves it when I wear lipstick. Dramatically hugging me before I left and confessing that she loves when all her kids are home. Although it is a bit much at times, her brand of drama has become a part of my life.
My mother’s brand is completely different from my father’s, however. Dealing with my father is like dealing with my little brother: They don’t share their thoughts when you ask. You have to wait until they come to you and open up about whatever is on their mind.
It was during one of these times that we joked about who gets the shorter end of the stick. We were in the car talking about how this week is the last week of classes and finals are coming up very soon, but even though I am going to be stuck studying, I still have it better than my dad because at least I won’t be at home dealing with mom. In the end, this Thanksgiving break taught me that going home and chilling with my parents truly keeps me young.
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