06 November 2007
Thanksgiving Paranormal Style
This is a fried turkey, which if you must know is the only way we eat it down here in Bayou Country.
Since it’s almost that time, I thought I'd post a little day in the life of Gilda, Suburbia’s Own Very Desperate Housewitch. It’s a normal Thanksgiving in a peaceful suburban household, until we give it a paranormal twist. Read on and with my favorite blessing.. Amen and Dig in.
Hello! I'm Gilda, welcome to my humble abode here in Paranormaville USA. We're located a bit left of center, down a path that is a little less traveled. You're welcome to join us, just mind the garden gnomes, they bite.
Come right on in, please ignore the mess.. you'll notice we're pretty normal, except for the fact that the pumpkin pie was teleported to the table by good old Uncle Joe. He’s been able to do that since they put the steel plate in his head after the war, dontcha know? Yeah, Uncle Joe, we really love it when you poof frogs in grandpa’s underpants. Man, lookit him go, hey, he forgot his walker! Too bad you can’t do that with cranberry sauce. Now that would be a useful talent so I wouldn't have to beg my teenaged son to go to the store. Any other day he'd be nagging me for the keys. *mutters*
What's that noise? Oh it's great-Aunt Milly in the living room, talking to the dog. Of course, the dog talks back and he’s bitching about losing five bucks on the football game. Doesn’t he know better than to bet against a psychic? I learned that after she bilked me out of my allowance--in the third grade.
You'd better grab a seat, the rest of the family are starting to drift in. I do mean that literally, levitating is easier and it also keeps them from getting their shoes dirty. Since the incident with She Who Shall Not Be Named (Psst! my brother Max’s ex-wife Shelia) who tried to put a spell on him but missed hitting the surrounding grass instead it’s been impossible to grow anything but mud, much to my mother’s everlasting horror. She’d been trying for Lawn of the Year that spring. Sometimes, I think she’d rather it had hit Max instead of her prize roses.
But that’s in the past, we’re all one big happy family now—except for Shelia who can’t break the magical restraining order, thank Justice. And I mean it's a big family, cousins, uncles, aunts, outlaws, and the inevitable in-laws too. Ick. However, in the name of the holiday we sit down at the table, together and give thanks for all that we have. Paranormal or normal it's the same.
Oh dear look at those feathers fly! The turkey just came back to life! It seems my husband’s little sister, Heather, the vegan, hasn’t gotten the hang of her powers yet. Gahh, puberty has gotta be a bitch when you’re a teen witch! Of course, you realize this means that my mother-in-law really is a witch. And you norms thought you had it bad, huh? Oh well, I guess grandpa will have to carve us up pizza again this year.
Happy Thanksgiving from Gilda and of course from me..