Being there

I don't know about you but Thanksgiving at my house, well any occasion at my house goes a little like this. Eating until watching food commercials provoke nausea followed by watching my parents talk on the phone to their extended family. Then I alternate between watching my mother nap between dialysis in her extremely warm room or hanging out with my father in a more temperate wing of the house for whatever he's doing. That's probably just happening here but there is something about just being there, even though we're not doing anything. Perhaps there is a more ideal scene going down somewhere else; decorating houses or trees, camping out for sales, excited about getting that great deal on the thing you know will make someone's eyes wide with delight. As for me and mine, Ashley is out with her friends, my father is sleeping on the couch, my mother upstairs in her sauna, and I am at the kitchen table in my pajamas dealing with the guilt and bloating.