Thanksgiving, Eh?

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day in Canada. This evening my mother cooked Thanksgiving dinner for 17 people. My mom is not all that hot in the kitchen. My parents live in an old farmhouse that my grandparents built when they were first married and mom and dad haven't changed a thing in the house since they moved into it 28 years ago.

I hate this house. Even more than I hate the house I hate the kitchen. The appliances are all 35 years old--the fridge is falling apart, the oven door falls off when you open it unless you hold it just right and there are only 2 burners on the stove that actually work. The carpet is also 35 years old. Some of it is even older.

And have I mentioned that the dishwasher doesn't work either? Just imagine how much fun we had washing dishes for 17 people by hand.

Almost 10 years ago one of the toilets started leaking and didn't stop. The result was water damage in the basement that necessitated the removal of all electrical, carpets and wall coverings, rendering the space completely useless. There was also water damage upstairs in the living room and the bathroom where all the trouble started.

Almost 10 years later none of this damage has been repaired. My mom hates the house--she has never felt at home in it because every time she attempted to make any change to it my gramma would pitch a fit and wonder why it needed changing. Every once in a while gramma would come looking for some piece of junk that was left behind and get upset if they had actually gotten rid of it. So they stopped making changes. And they stopped getting rid of the old junk. They had talked of tearing the whole place down and building something new, but they still haven't done it. I think my mom is utterly incapable of making a decision regarding the matter. My dad is utterly terrified of making a decision on her behalf. So they are living in the dive.

Argh!!!! I hate the house. I wish they would do something with it. They have no room for anything and trying to cook a fucking turkey dinner is an absolute nightmare in their kitchen. There is this show on TV called How Clean is Your House and I'm seriously thinking that they should visit my parents and let them know how many bacteria are living in their fridge and on the countertops and in the sink. I am quite literally concerned for my welfare when I eat there. But I still eat the meal that my mother cooks poorly, even though I am worried that it might kill me.

I'm going to go throw up now.