Corn On The Bob

         “Oh, God Dammit! Not another family reunion! I can’t stand this shit! Another petty display of everyone passing ridicule and judgment and comparing their lives to yours.”
         “Oh relax, Jerome,” said my girlfriend Julianne. “It’ll be ok.”
         As we pulled into the 150 year old farmhouse’s driveway, I could feel the tension brewing within me already . The cars were all lined up. Everyone was here. Oh what fuckin joy. We walked in and were greeted by my  Gram.
         “How are you dear? It’s about time you got here. Your Dad’s here, he’s in the living room.”
         “I’ll see him soon enough.”
         All the men of the family were in watching wrestling or some such shit on TV. I stayed with Julianne and the ladies. As usual there was an assortment of Aunts, uncles, cousins, and relatives to numerous to mention.
         “So where you working, Jerome?” Aunt Thelma asked me. My father's aunt, technically my Great Aunt.
         “The new drywall plant out on 54.” I replied.
         “What?“ she asked.
         “Drywall plant on 54.” I replied, as she is hard of hearing and refuses to wear a hearing aid.          “Where?”
         “DRYWALL PLANT,” I screamed.
         “Oh ok,”  she replied, as if she even heard what I was saying, or really cared. 
         “Drywall plant?” Uncle Bob said as he walked out of the living room. “I heard it’s open now. You working out there boy?”
         “Yes.” I replied.
         “Good money?” he asked. 
         “Eleven fifty an hour to start.”
         “Not bad for around here,” he replied.
         Gram and her sister, my Aunt Sally, were bringing the food to the table, and I knew soon it would be time to eat. A humungous turkey, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and some Jell-O looking substance in a glass pan with crushed cookies or graham crackers or something on top. And a shit load of other gourmet or not so gourmet delicacies.  Aunt Sally called everyone to the table, and they quickly started to pile out. 
         “Hey Jerome, you’re here, when did you pull in?” my father asked.
         “About  ten minutes ago.”
         “Why didn’t you come the living room and say hello to everyone?”
         “Well the ladies-the other half of everyone kept me out here.” Which wasn’t true but it worked. I just didn’t feel like talking to anyone or being there at all for that matter.
         “Well I can understand that,” he replied. “They chatter like an old sewing circle.”          The men laughed at that comment while the woman cringed. I smirked and held back my laughter because I knew it was true, and I think deep down the ladies did too. 
         As we all piled in for another feast, I was surprised at how quiet and peaceful everyone was. Not our usual quarrels or spats. How long would this last I wondered. I sat next to old Uncle Bob. This guy  was 92 years old, the oldest member of the family. A likable old chap.
         The kids where in the back kitchen at the dinner table, my Gram and their mothers tending to them. Everybody was eventually able to sit down. We said Grace and began to eat.  Not long after we began eating, my fathers two oldest brothers Jack and Seymour started bitching to each other about a pickup truck one had purchased from the other.
         Ha, I knew it wouldn’t last long! It was getting a little intense. I was trying not to laugh as Gram was telling them to behave. I could see my father trying to hold back his laughter. Finally some excitement I thought, and I’m being left out for once. This was good. I was amused. After a few minutes everyone started looking at me, or at least I thought they were.
         Oh great what did I do? Nothing, as I would soon find out. I looked over and saw Uncle Bob had bit down on his corn and pulled it away from his mouth, his top dentures stuck in it. I was snickering, trying not to laugh as were most others at the table. Some louder than others. Uncle Bob didn’t care, he just stuck ’em back in. 
         I couldn’t stop smirking. Wow, this was too much.  Then all of a sudden the power went out. “Aw darn” my Grandmother said, as “aw shit” was, for her, too taboo of an expression. Gram and her boys went to find flashlights in turn to find candles. Uncle Jack tripped and then fell right into an old post style coat rack, spilling them everywhere.
         “Ah, son of a bitch,” he yelled.
         My Gram said “Watch your mouth.”  He picked them up as best he could. “Another great holiday,” he mumbled. I’m once again trying not to laugh.
         Gram finally found some candles and we renewed our meal. Aunt Vera, Seymour’s wife, reached out after they were lit to get some gravy and caught her sweater on fire.
         “Aw, no,” she screamed at my uncle and he patted it out.
         “Are you ok?” we asked.
         She replied, “Just fine, it was out as quick as it started.“
         I made a smart ass comment and said ,“do it again, we need more light“. I received a few laughs.          
         “Well this is a first, Christmas by candlelight,” said Aunt Cheryl, Uncle Jack’s wife.
         Uncle Boris, Grams brother, replied “This is how we used to do it all of the time.“
         “Well thank God those days are over.” Aunt Vera stated.
         After an hour or so the power was restored and out went the candles, much to everyone’s relief. I lingered around for an hour or so after dinner and then Julianne and I said our goodbyes.
         When we got into the car I asked “can you believe that?”
         “Yeah,” she said, “and you didn’t want to come.”
         “Well if it’s going to be this much fun next year, I’ll be here with bells on.”
         “You’re terrible.” she said.
         My only reply was “Indeed”.
THE END- HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
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