An Unpleasant Thanksgiving Aftermath

Well, the Cowart family Thanksgiving has past and the governor saw no need to call in FEMA…

Yet.

Our family is NOT dysfunctional!

Problem is we function like a fire engine careening toward a four-alarm blaze with bell clanging, horn blaring, siren wailing. lights flashing, and guys swinging off the back rail hanging on for dear life as they try to pull up their pants.

Now one of the greatest joys of my life is to see our grown children dwelling together in harmony. They really like eachother and they actually like Ginny and me. They enjoy hanging out together and with us.

That gives me great pleasure.

In small doses.

Then I go into system overload.

I’ve heard that having a family is like having a bowling alley installed in your brain. Can’t dispute those words of wisdom.

Yesterday our youngest daughter brought over her laundry from college to wash at our house. Our middle daughter returned fire place tools. Our eldest daughter and her dog met us for breakfast, Our son and his new bride came over to meet the others so they could deliver some furniture. We met three for breakfast, then seven for lunch… and Ginny stepped in dog shit and I cleaned her shoes (talk about a day of true love and romance).

Not that we had plans for this day, you understand, but as Robert Burns the poet once said, “The best plans of mice and men to get laid, often go awry”.

Or something like that.

Anyhow, we enjoyed another massive family day instead.

Trouble is I get weary.

I recharge my batteries by solitude, and when I don’t recharge I turn into a mean, grumpy, complaining, sorry son-of-a-bitch. I snap and grumble and fault-find and make those who love me miserable.

Friday proved my point:

After Ginny and I left Thursday’s feast, one of the guests there made some inappropriate remarks to our youngest daughter. The guy pestered her till she felt distinctly uncomfortable.

Finally, just as the party was breaking up anyhow, she told him loudly and in no uncertain terms to Back The Hell Off! And leave her alone.

Then, today, she feels guilty because she thinks other people there only heard her yell at him and they all broke up and went home (after about ten hours of being together).

So she felt that she had spoiled the party!

Now yesterday she began to tell me about what happened. She did not want my advice. She wanted me to listen. She wanted to vent her guilt feelings.

Now I feel she did exactly the right thing.

I approve of how she handled the situation.

So I assumed it was no big deal. Pretty girls must have to brush off creeps all the time.

But she was not telling me about him — she was telling me about her and how she felt.

But, being the dense, insensitive clod that I am, I misread her.

And I made light of it.

I assumed she knew that she’d done a righteous deed, that she had not spoiled the party, that other people observed what was going on, and that if anybody should feel guilty it was the drunk who pestered her.

I did not listen.

I talked.

I made some stupid joke.

She broke into tears.

I hurt her feelings.

Some damn dad, huh?

Then, to top things off, as she was explaining what had happened to someone else, I broke into her conversation — again, me thinking she realized that she’d done right — and she felt squelched.

She clamed up and refused to talk about it any more.

I don’t think I’ll ever learn how to be a good dad.

Then, being on a roll, I devalued the values of Donald’s new wife by making remarks about her thoughts on a china setting she wants for her new home. She is trying to introduce our son to a strange foreign Civilization and culture where meals are not eaten from the torn cardboard cover of a pizza box.

Good luck to her with that project.

She’s got a lifetime job ahead of her.

Anyhow, after all was said and done, my children forgave me (again).

They still express every facet of respect and love for me.

And for this, even though the holiday has passed, I am truly thankful.

Oh, by the way, the kids are planning for two moves, two birthdays, and at least one more general get-together between now and Christmas.

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head…” — Psalm 133:1

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PS: I know it’s a pain for readers, but the comment spammers have found my blog hideout so I’m turning on word verification again for a few weeks to thwart their nefarious plot. Sorry for the squiggly letters. Never ever buy anything from a spammer.