I’ve previously mentioned that Will and I don’t do major events very well. It’s like we subconsciously recognize the importance of the day and the fact that there is suppsoed to be love and harmony and so somehow we both warp the ideal holiday into some sort of Wes Craven Horror Holiday film.

It’s like Wes himself is sitting on the edge of our bed with a script and is like, “Cut! Cut! Cut!! I said ANGER!!! Brittny! I want your look of death to physically pain Will when you give it to him! Freaking A! Kelly! Get the Freddy Krueger costume out! Brittny needs to wear it! I want her to haunt Will in his freaking sleep!”

It seems as if good old Wes makes an appearance at the WB household for at least 2 major occassions each year. He reared his ugly head on our anniversary weekend and, well, he ironically made a brief appearance today- on Thanksgiving. The day we should be well aware of how great it is to have each other. Let’s look back on the events of the day in a brief Wes-like synopsis:

Act One Scene One:
Location, WB House. 11:35 am.
Will enthusiastically arrives home with his military cable box. My parents bought us an early christmas present this week- a cable box that will enable us to watch much better TV than we have been! Will was excited because he is now going ot be able to watch a lot of the football games live. He was so cute- like a kid in a candy store. I was excited for this surprise. We had a nice morning as he fumbled to get it working
(BTW- just a note for all newlyweds- don’t let your husband assemble anything important on a major holiday. This event alone invites a Wes Crane Holiday. I promise)

12:00:
My dad stops by to join in the fun! Something about men assembling things draws all other men in a 50 mile radius. Everyone wants to be the helper and problem solver. It’s comical on most days, but notsomuch on Thanksgiving.

At noon the turkey is about 45 minutes away from being fully cooked. We’re a mere hour from our scheduled arrival at my parent’s house for lunch, and I’m just getting out of the shower and getting ready.

“Sweetie! Why do you and my dad put the box away for now and you can work on it tonight. We probbaly won’t be on time if you wait much longer.”

I get a muffled, “yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s fine, we’ll be okay and on time blah blah blah.”

My dad doesn’t leave until 12:45! 15 minutes until we’re supposed to be at the freaking dinner table, praying and thanking God for the many blessings he has given us. However, the only prayer I was saying was, “Please don’t let me fly off the handle in a Wes-like manner and violently use my husband as turkey stuffing.”

You’d think that my dad leaving would make Will start to get around, but that would be too practical- right!? I love Will, I truly do, but there are some things about the male ego I will never understand. He can’t just let the box sit. It’s as if there is a timer ticking from within and if he doesn’t get it up and running in 2 hours or less the box will turn to acid and simply melt away like a Cherry Garcia bar during a Kuwait July. So…

he worked,

and he scanned,

and he pushed buttons,

and

I

flew

off

the handle (all work andno play makes jack a dull boy. all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.).

It started out with me trying my absolute hardest to be patient. I simply would give him disapproving frustrated sighs.

Then it moved to me popping my ankles (don’t ask it’s thsi stupid thing I’ve done since I was a child when upset),

then, when it hit 1 and my turkey was ready and my mom’s food was prepared and waiting for us,
then it became verbal.

Enter Wes.

I told him I thought it was inconsiderate that my mom ‘s table was waiting for us and he hadn’t even showered. We weren’t going to be there until 2 and it made me very mad.

I said it just like that… but not really. It was just like that only pea soup was violently spewing out of my mouth and my head was rotating at the speed of light.

Will finally turned the TV off and went to get ready (after whispering to Boz and Lucy that, “Mommy is Pissy!").

Will got ready and it was FINALLY time to go- one hour later, and boy was I a peach (not.).

I always find it so funny: Will could be running extremely late, but when he’s ready to go and things aren’t ready he will get in a terrible mood. I always think that’s so laughable and I always retort, “Oh! So you’re in a hurry now?” due to the fact that I had to wait on him for over an hour but when HE’S ready we all have to jump. Yes, I know that’s not what a godly wife would say and rather more a “Wesly wife” type of comment, but hey- he was freaking late.

Scene Two
Will gets ready and is preparing to go. I couldn’t get the turkey to the car myself (long story) and required his help. for some reason this upset Will because he thought that all shoudl have been taken care of. We fumble and hold it one way and then another.

Juices slosh.

Hands get burned.

He finally decides to just do it himself, so he grabs the turkey and takes it down to the car by himself- all in Thanksgiving cheer. He comes back up, we grab the kiddos and we’re off to my parents.

Act Two Scene One
1:55, the Car

I’m sitting in the back holding the scalding turkey, the dogs are in the front, and will is driving. Everytime Will hits a bump or drives too quickly I become the terrible backseat driver and hiss and make frustrated faces. Will just loves when I do that (ha).

It’s now off to the races. Wes had cameras at all angles. It was quite a scene, let me tell ya.
We begin what seems to be the inevitable holiday argument on route to my parent’s house.

To sum it up, Will was upset that I hadn’t done more to help him get thigns ready to go. It wasn’t so much this particular incident, but a mounting of many (such as getting the dogs in country, retirement plans, keeping track of all my important documents, etc). He said sometimes he feels he has to do it all and be superman. I then responded by telling him how I used to try to help with important things like that. However, because it seems my ambition in life to drop, break, spill, and destory anything given me I felt as if Will began to take responsibilities away from eme because he couldn’t trust me. I told him I felt like he thought he could do it better.

Then...then Will said a whole bunch of things about how I was probably right and how he doesn’t delegate what needs to be done very effecitvely to me and how- “I do think I can do it better.”

Girls, my heart broke. It was all I could from sticking the bird’s butt cavity on top of will’s head!

We’re on route to my parents, a hot turkey pan is on my lap. I’m in the back seat. Jucies are leaking everywhere, and tears are flowing from my face like the Mississippi after a storm.

Will is trying his hardest to get us to my parent’s as carefully as possible due to the precious cargo int he backseat (the turkey- ha ha) and can’t truly have a converstaion of this magnitude with me right then. I think my alligator tears surprised him. He didn’t quite get it. “Why are you crying?”

“you hurt my feelings terribly! you think you’re better at things then be just because I’m clumsier.”

It went on from there back and forth. It came down to the fact that will says all men think they’re superman. Their egos often get in the way and they do try to hone in and do things because, as the “provider” they feel they’re able to do everything and do it the best way. I fully undertsand his explanation, but man, it hurt my heart to hear! I think it hurt because of the circumstances of the day and the fact that we’d already had a bad morning.

I then yell, “I think it’s so freaking stupid that we’re fighting on Thanksgiving! you’re the thing I’m most freaking thankful for in this earthly life, dang it and here we are fighting!” mostly out of frustration and anger, not so much out of compassion.

At this point I’m crying really hard and I realize i have to get it together or my parents will think Will and I were arguing (ha ha) and that’s the absolute worst can of worms to open on Thanksgiving.
“brittny, why are your eyes all red?” there is no good answer for that one.

I fix myself up and I know it made Will sad to see my cry so much over something so silly. talk about forgetting the meaning of Thanksgiving and getting caught up in silliness, right!? I think we both sort of realized how stupid it was that our whole morning was dicated by Wes Craven and his ability to annoy each of us into not appreciating each other and the many things God has given us. The car got quiet as we pulled up to my parents. My dad met us downstairs to get the turkey. Will and I gave each other a huge hug and had a wonderful rest of the day. Thank goodness for happy endings, right? I guess there’s nothing to Wes about that.

I know it seems weird that I’d share the fact that Will and I had an argument on Thanksgiving, but for some reason I felt the need to. We’re just a normal couple that has our arguments, but for some reason ours just happen to occur on holidays!

I guess I will have to pray that God helps us get through Christmas!

hope you had a wonderful thanksgiving. I look forward to hearing about it.