We pulled up at my parents’ house and traipsed into the madness, Doug barking like mad at the kids running crazy through the living room, chasing each other with Nerf dart guns. My brother came around the corner with my sister, Leah, under his arm in a headlock. She had her arms wrapped around his waist, holding on for dear life and was screaming at him to stop. Apparently whatever she had done was bad enough that Noah had her jean clad legs tucked up under each of his arms, helping my brother carry her through the house.
Luke and Brandon looked at each other for a second before grinning and taking off to see where Calland and Noah were taking Leah. I walked into the kitchen behind them, covering my ears when Leah shrieked as Calland dunked her head into the sink full of dishwater. Noah dropped her legs and Calland stood her up. She looked like a drowned rat with rabies or something. Bubbles dripped down her face and her hair was plastered to her head. Mascara was running down her cheeks in little black rivulets.
My mom and Jenna were standing side by side at the stove, each stirring something briskly. Without a beat, Mom looked over her shoulder and said, “Told you, you shouldn’t have done that. And you shouldn’t have worn makeup today, raccoon eyes. Go clean up, its almost time to eat.”
Leah stomped her foot and stormed out, screaming, “FUCKING PENIS RULE!” as she left the room.
I glanced at my brother-in-law, figuring I would get the straightest answer out of him. “So what’d she do, Noah?”
Not a man of many words, he simply replied, “Whipped cream and water balloons.”
I nodded at him as if I knew what the hell he was talking about. Because, sadly, I did. When we were younger, Jenna had come up with the idea of filling water balloons with those aerosol cans of whipped cream to get back at Calland for something he and his friends had done. It was messy but so worth it, and really was done in defense. Poor Jenna was in the bath when Calland had taken her favorite bra, wetted it down in the kitchen sink, and then froze it. By the time Jenna got out of the tub and primped herself up, the bra was frozen stiff. We never did understand why she hadn’t just grabbed another bra or thrown that one in the dryer. Instead, she stood in the bathroom screaming at Calland while she used the blow dryer to thaw it out.
Calland finally stopped laughing enough to take over Noah’s story. Not that Noah was telling the story any longer, but again, he’s a man of few words. Very few.
“So,” Calland began, still chuckling. “Leah got the bright idea to surprise me and Noah by hitting us with balloons filled with whipped cream while we were pulling the Christmas tree out of the attic for Mom. Being the ditzoid she is, she didn’t fill them up enough so they just bounced off of us. That’s why she got dunked!” He hooted with laughter again, holding his stomach and wiping tears away as he sputtered about the way Leah had looked after he stuck her head in the sink. Noah was smiling too, but he was more reserved about his glee.
I raised my eyebrows and shook my head when Luke and Brandon both slapped high-fives with Calland and Noah, and when Luke caught my eye, he just grinned and shrugged. They disappeared toward the garage with my brother and I heard Brandon asking for details on how to fill the balloons for maximum splattage. Guess I need to watch my back at home from now on.
I turned to my mom and asked her if she needed my help with anything. She told me to take over stirring the gravy for her before she asked, “Emma? Did I hear a dog barking when you guys came in?”
Uh-oh! I forgot about Doug with everything going on! “Um…well? I didn’t think you’d mind if we brought Doug. He’s Luke’s-” I shut up because it was pointless to talk to her anymore since she’d ran out of the kitchen calling for him.
Jenna and I looked at each other and shrugged as we heard Mom start cooing to Doug in the living room. Leah came in shaking her head and stood beside us as we heard the click-click-click of Doug’s nails on the wood floors as he followed my Mom back into the kitchen like she was the greatest thing since sliced bread. His goofy doggy grin was plastered across his furry face as he thumped his ass down on the floor as if waiting for something.
Mom peeked over my shoulder, finally decreeing that the gravy I’d been stirring was done before she shooed us away from the stove. Then we all watched in confusion as she set about filling a small plate with little portions of ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, macaroni and cheese, stuffing, and even a deviled egg. When she was done, we all stared, dumbfounded with eyes wide and mouths gaping, as she plopped herself down on a chair at the kitchen table, pulling the one out beside her and patting it for Doug to hop up on.
Doug complied, looking every bit the sophisticate as he sat tall and proud on the chair. My mom began feeding him small bites of food from a fork, and Doug, being the perfect polite gentleman, was calmly and gently closing his lips over the fork, his little front teeth lightly scraping the morsels off the tines before chewing, swallowing, and patiently waiting for the next bite.
I felt heat at my back an instant before I heard Luke whisper in my ear, “Is your mom feeding my dog from a FORK at the kitchen TABLE? Oh, God. She’s feeding him egg. Is that egg? That’s egg. Oh, shit, he’s staying here tonight. Seriously, he’s not coming home with us because his egg farts are the worst!”
I giggled, turning my head to look at him and when I did, I noticed that everyone in the family had gathered silently in the kitchen, including my niece and nephew, watching my crazy mother feed a huge yellow lab at the kitchen table like it was an everyday thing.
The silence finally registered with my mom. Either that or she felt all of our eyes boring into her in disbelief. She looked up and glared at each of us before saying, “What? You’ve never seen a dog eat Thanksgiving dinner before? It IS a holiday, you know, and he’s part of the family now, too. I’m just sad that he can’t have the turkey, too, but its bad for dogs. Now all of you, go wash up for dinner, and Calland, you can set the dining room table. Leah, you help. Emma and Jenna, start carrying food into the dining room. Move!”
We all sprang into action, and so the day went. You’d swear that Doug was one of Mom’s grandchildren, the way she spoiled him and doted on him as well as Hayden and Jarrod. Thanksgiving dinner with everyone crowded around the table went off with only minor hiccups, those mainly being Calland throwing the dinner rolls at everyone instead of passing the basket around, Calland refusing to let me have any mac & cheese until my mom threatened to beat him with a wooden spoon (again), and Calland teaching Hayden how to fling peas across the table at her mom with her spoon. (Sensing a pattern here?)
After dinner and dessert was done, everything cleaned up, and the leftovers designated (I got ALL of the mac & cheese, bitches! Muahahahaha!), the guys headed into the living room to watch football, the kids took Doug out back to play, and me, my mom, and my sisters all sat in the kitchen playing double solitaire.
We spent a few pleasant hours just enjoying everyone’s company before we started to disperse. Everyone was giving hugs and kisses and punches (that was Calland, go figure) and grabbing their designated bag of leftovers. I helped my sister and Noah get everything into their car, including a miraculously half-asleep Hayden, and headed back in to get my stuff and say bye to my mom and dad. When I got to the door, Mom was hugging Luke and Brandon and pushing them out towards me. Luke had my coat over his arm and Brandon had my bag of leftovers, but I didn’t see Doug.
