i found that out the hard way. i should say, no one likes three year olds at holiday parties.
i can sympathize to an extent. i used to dislike children as much as the next calm, rational, together adult. they invaded my personal space, made messes and always seemed to have a snot bubble in their nose.
now, i am the one wiping away the snot bubbles, cleaning up and apologizing for the messes. and personal space? what the hell is that?
greg’s aunts (both nuns!) were in town for the holiday. and greg’s parents are really nice people, if a bit cleanly. not that that is a character flaw. but they can be a little sterile, germ-a-phobic, OCD about dust and dirt particles. which is fine. that’s their choice. they like things organized, structured, and proper. this is all good and fine. except that they have ruth for a grandchild. and she likes to mix it up.
so imagine ruth, wiley thing that she is, romping about on thanksgiving day in the buff, declining every offer to put something on her behind so it will stop jiggling as she runs back and forth in front of greg’s aunts (in the meantime, they were averting their eyes and crossing themselves like she was possessed or something, which i’m not gonna lie, she is). she would just laugh and run all the more frantically, butt cheeks jiggling even more. like a jello mold.
it doesn’t bother me. i’m used to it. at home, as long as there are no guests, i don’t care if she spends the whole day naked. or if the guests are immediate family members i’ll allow it.
“she has to put something on!” greg whispered to me, “she’s sitting her bare ass on all of my parents’ furniture!” i didn’t necessarily see the problem in that, but i tried a little harder to get her to clothe herself. eventually, she relinquished a bit and put on her footie pajamas, the compromise being that she wouldn’t zip it and instead ran around the house with it flying behind her like a cape saying she was super girl. the only thing that was really covered up were her arms, but people seemed satisfied by this.
when we all sat down to eat, ruth started yelling about how no one could eat until christmas, which, i know her, was meant as a joke, but which the aunts didn’t get and no one thought was funny. ruth can be like a tourette’s patient at times.
just another reason why i feel like i’m not fit for society any more and why i should take my two damn savage kids and go and live on an island.
ruth said her favorite part of thanksgiving was eating dead turkey.
so, happy thanksgiving.