It’s been 10 long weeks since we last saw that group of crazies we call family. While this time has flown by, we’re ready (or so we think) to be back with our loved ones. Luckily, we’re less than a month away from the highly anticipated Thanksgiving break reunion. That means it’s time to start mentally preparing for the whirlwind experience of being with our loved ones for the first time in a very long time.
Almost immediately upon reuniting with our family, we’ll begin to seriously wonder how we’re related to these people. The absolute scene that our father makes when there’s a sale on Gatorade and the bizarre fits that our siblings throw over who sits where at the dinner table has us seriously considering investing in a DNA test.
Along with this, we must master the art of dodging questions. The invasive inquiries about our grades and plans for the future are like tiny landmines that we must tiptoe around at all costs. We realize that, unlike with friends at school, the idea of getting a C+ on a midterm isn’t worthy of a high-five with our parents.
One of our best tactics to evade these risky interrogations is to busy our mouths by stuffing them full of food. Our stomachs will pass the point of maximum capacity at four meals and seven desserts before we call it quits at the dinner table. It’s far too likely that we’ll need to submit to a life of rolling rather than walking around, thanks to our increasingly spherical body shape.
We also forget how imbalanced conversation is when with our kin. The lecture we have to sit through when our mother talks about her coworker’s daughter’s best friend’s alcohol poisoning is a startling reminder that social conversational cues don’t count when with family.
We’ll also have to relive the 45-minute ordeal of getting everyone out of the door at the same time. Our stay at school has tainted us with the self-absorption that comes with living on our own. The idea that all parties involved need to make sure that they use the restroom before hitting the road makes the whole situation quite complicated.
In the end, it doesn’t even matter that we now own a lifetime supply of Gatorade. Or that everyone at Olive Garden now knows our sister’s personal seating preference. Or that we were 45 minutes late to get to said Olive Garden. What matters is that we’re with our family, which is right where we belong. You know what they say: Can’t live with them and can’t live without them.