Journalism Writing Task..
Before you start reading.. you should know, Totally fictional! my Grandma is a far-cry from the "Mother in Law" type. Enjoy my little story.. or don't, your choice! :)
Every year for Christmas, my family gets together. I understand that this isn’t unusual or special, by any means- but you don’t even know the half of it.
My mother spends much time stressing and preparing various things food, gifts, matching outfits for all of us kids- and she and dad.. all for one day. When I was younger, I didn’t understand it. Still, it seems silly- but I understand it more than I once did.
My grandma, more appropriately called- “the Mother- in- law” is the source of all this pressure on my mother. She is the Christmas Queen and wishes for everything to be “just so.”
I don’t mean to make her sound like the wicked witch. She can be very pleasant, which is why it took me awhile to catch on to my mother’s stress. Now, I’m old enough to catch-on to her snide remarks so cleverly murmured underneath her breath. We all sit on the edge of our seats at the dinner table to hear the words, or see the expressions on her face as she uncovers the dishes prepared by her daughter-in-laws.
Grandma never had any girls. Just three boys, so she is always critical of who those boys married. She puts a tremendous amount of pressure on them to be her girls.
This year mom came up with her “best-yet” outfits for us kids.. In mom’s words, not mine. I found them to be rather awkward. Little turtle neck dresses with leggings and flats. Which looked an awful lot like Dorothy’s, from the Wizard of Oz. and “there’s no place like home” is exactly what I was thinking the moment I walked in the door of Grandma’s house. I could feel the tension.
After some visiting, this never lasts long. It was announced that us kids should gather around our parents in the dining room so that we could say the prayer and then eat the traditional Christmas dinner.
Grandma began to uncover and inspect the food. I wasn’t at all shocked with her unpleasant look at my mother’s dish. Though mom had spent much time on Pinterest looking for the perfect recipes, she had come up short and brought the same dish she had prepared last year. Fine by me, but to Grandma- I guess it wasn’t creative or original enough.
I was surprised; however, when I heard mother say out-loud
“Really? That’s the look you’re giving my dish. After all my hard work and time slaving in the hot kitchen. Trying to please you. Fine. I’ll make that look to your dry- as usual turkey.”
She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth and turned bright-red. Everyone stood in shock at the words which had just been said. Mother I’m sure, had these thoughts every year.. But never had she said them out-loud.
That was only the beginning. The stares didn’t last long at all. People were in no time throwing remarks. As the saying goes “it only takes a spark, to get a fire going.” Thoughts of food-fights were dancing in my head as the yelling match ensued.
Dad was defending mom, as grandma shared her thoughts out-loud. Brothers were trying to protect dad as grandma was upset over her own son “betraying” her. I was sure that if it kept up, the dinner would be my new outfit, friendships would be forever destroyed and the list goes on. So, I panicked. And dialed 9-1-1.. Looking back, probably not a great idea, but I can’t take it back.
The police soon arrived, much to everyone’s surprise. In all the yelling and drama, they hadn’t noticed me slip out and return again, with just enough time to make a phone-call. One that would drastically change our Christmas.
He welcomed himself in, no-one paid any mind to the doorbell, or the knocking. He took many long-drawn-out answers, pointing fingers, to his simple questions; and soon decided that he should just send them all to the slammer for a night. It was more to scare them than anything else. Still, its something we all look back on.
Not many families can say that they were arrested on Christmas day- and certainly not many can say that it started with a comment about dry turkey. But my family can.
Every year for Christmas, my family gets together. I understand that this isn’t unusual or special, by any means- but you don’t even know the half of it.
My mother spends much time stressing and preparing various things food, gifts, matching outfits for all of us kids- and she and dad.. all for one day. When I was younger, I didn’t understand it. Still, it seems silly- but I understand it more than I once did.
My grandma, more appropriately called- “the Mother- in- law” is the source of all this pressure on my mother. She is the Christmas Queen and wishes for everything to be “just so.”
I don’t mean to make her sound like the wicked witch. She can be very pleasant, which is why it took me awhile to catch on to my mother’s stress. Now, I’m old enough to catch-on to her snide remarks so cleverly murmured underneath her breath. We all sit on the edge of our seats at the dinner table to hear the words, or see the expressions on her face as she uncovers the dishes prepared by her daughter-in-laws.
Grandma never had any girls. Just three boys, so she is always critical of who those boys married. She puts a tremendous amount of pressure on them to be her girls.
This year mom came up with her “best-yet” outfits for us kids.. In mom’s words, not mine. I found them to be rather awkward. Little turtle neck dresses with leggings and flats. Which looked an awful lot like Dorothy’s, from the Wizard of Oz. and “there’s no place like home” is exactly what I was thinking the moment I walked in the door of Grandma’s house. I could feel the tension.
After some visiting, this never lasts long. It was announced that us kids should gather around our parents in the dining room so that we could say the prayer and then eat the traditional Christmas dinner.
Grandma began to uncover and inspect the food. I wasn’t at all shocked with her unpleasant look at my mother’s dish. Though mom had spent much time on Pinterest looking for the perfect recipes, she had come up short and brought the same dish she had prepared last year. Fine by me, but to Grandma- I guess it wasn’t creative or original enough.
I was surprised; however, when I heard mother say out-loud
“Really? That’s the look you’re giving my dish. After all my hard work and time slaving in the hot kitchen. Trying to please you. Fine. I’ll make that look to your dry- as usual turkey.”
She immediately slapped her hand over her mouth and turned bright-red. Everyone stood in shock at the words which had just been said. Mother I’m sure, had these thoughts every year.. But never had she said them out-loud.
That was only the beginning. The stares didn’t last long at all. People were in no time throwing remarks. As the saying goes “it only takes a spark, to get a fire going.” Thoughts of food-fights were dancing in my head as the yelling match ensued.
Dad was defending mom, as grandma shared her thoughts out-loud. Brothers were trying to protect dad as grandma was upset over her own son “betraying” her. I was sure that if it kept up, the dinner would be my new outfit, friendships would be forever destroyed and the list goes on. So, I panicked. And dialed 9-1-1.. Looking back, probably not a great idea, but I can’t take it back.
The police soon arrived, much to everyone’s surprise. In all the yelling and drama, they hadn’t noticed me slip out and return again, with just enough time to make a phone-call. One that would drastically change our Christmas.
He welcomed himself in, no-one paid any mind to the doorbell, or the knocking. He took many long-drawn-out answers, pointing fingers, to his simple questions; and soon decided that he should just send them all to the slammer for a night. It was more to scare them than anything else. Still, its something we all look back on.
Not many families can say that they were arrested on Christmas day- and certainly not many can say that it started with a comment about dry turkey. But my family can.
lol... I did not see that end coming :P
ReplyDelete