Why, Thank You

Just fell asleep multiple times on the way home from Thanksgiving at my parents. I always pretend like I'm not doing this. "Oh, I totally heard that whole segment of This American Life. I know exactly what they were talking about. It was all about...people."

But I also just checked out "tryptophan" on Snopes and it's just as I suspected (or have previously learned and forgotten): The whole turkey-induced sleep thing is an urban myth. Many foods contain tryptophan, and tryptophan doesn't make you sleepy anyway--alcohol and overeating do. Which is why I get really sick of hearing about tryptophan on Thanksgiving. I've been around the block, and the topic has been done to death.

Thanksgiving was nice. My mom's apple pie was fab as usual, as was the lemon meringue permutation that her friend Judy brought. The pearl onions with cream n' crumbs were reliably sublime. Eating turkey with stuffing and real cranberry sauce all mixed together was as good as I remember. And it was Jarrah's first interactive Thanksgiving. I mean, she didn't stay at the table longer than absolutely necessary, true, but she joined in the conversation. When my dad mentioned a local golf course with a family of foxes, she archly inquired "And do they golf?" And when all of us stared at her while she ate her butternut squash from a china cup like a perfect lady, she made a twisty face and said "Why is everyone STARING at me?" Because you're perfect, darlin'. Because you're perfect.

Jarrah played "water doctor" with my dad, which involved sitting him down near the jacuzzi and then splashing his arms, head and face with water while he grinned from ear to ear. That man will put up with a lot from his granddaughter, I'm telling you. Thomas and David napped. Lindsey and I walked her dog, who walks VERY fast.

Because of who we are, we told completely disgusting, inappropriate anecdotes with great relish at the table. Judy remarked that this would never happen at their place. I remarked that I can't imagine it happening at anyone else's place, at least I certainly hope it doesn't. I might be a little worried about the world if our brand of table talk is a common thing.

So, tomorrow night we open. Reportedly to a full house. I certainly hope so. Even though we had an audience last night (albeit a tiny one) it was once again stony silent out there, no matter how much I flailed around. Oh, I stand corrected: there was a huge laugh when my "mama's" paper towel bosom fell straight out of her dress while she decorated the tree, and she retrieved it and stuffed it back in without breaking stride. I can't compete with that. I was disheartened and overwhelmed afterward and wept a bit on the way home while listening to sad songs. I asked David to remind me that I always act this way right before opening night, and he did not disappoint.

Y'all come on down and see us, you hear?