LewP
11-22-2005, 10:52 PM
"Lew! How the Sam Hill are you, ol' boy?" Dustin props the door open with a piece of concrete. He has clearly been drinking. Dustin is my older, barrel-chested, unemployed brother-in-law and the host of our family Thanksgiving for four years running. I have never understood him. First of all, his real name is John, and I have no idea why we call him Dustin.
"And who is this little cutie?"
"This is Kristi, Dustin, your sister?"
"Hey, my name's Dustin too! Wonder if we's kin."
"No, her name is Kristi," I say, surveying the tank top stretched over his meat-swollen belly.
"Well, come on in," he says. He slaps Kristi on the rear, causing her to lurch into a display case full of snakeskins. "Let me put on some pants."
His living room can best be described as "pure filth." The floor is a layered cake of old mail, food wrappers and what appear to be fish heads.
"Where is all the family, Dustin?"
"Called and said they couldn't make it."
"Wow, three years in a row. How odd," I say. "What's that smell?"
"Oh, I got sick in here last night. Watch your step."
I tiptoe through the mess until my right shoe hits something that smears.
"Watch out now!" Dustin laughs/coughs. "Hey, wanna you and I go out back and toss a few horseshoes?" Dustin asks. I don't want to for several reasons, but mainly because last time, he shot me in the arm for getting too close to his dogs.
"No, Dustin. I think I'll just stay in here and watch a little TV." I sit on a 3-foot stack of flattened six-pack cartons. Kristi just stands there with her eyes real big, looking at the litter box, apparently used by a Cape buffalo. Dustin goes out back and rummages through an old school bus.
"Let's get outta here," Kristi says.
I wake with a start on Friday morning. I look at my watch. The tryptophan in the turkey – it did it all in just one night! I run to hug Kristi.
"What is it, honey?"
"Nothing. I am just so thankful that I'm an only child. And I vow to keep Thanksgiving in my heart all year round."
"And who is this little cutie?"
"This is Kristi, Dustin, your sister?"
"Hey, my name's Dustin too! Wonder if we's kin."
"No, her name is Kristi," I say, surveying the tank top stretched over his meat-swollen belly.
"Well, come on in," he says. He slaps Kristi on the rear, causing her to lurch into a display case full of snakeskins. "Let me put on some pants."
His living room can best be described as "pure filth." The floor is a layered cake of old mail, food wrappers and what appear to be fish heads.
"Where is all the family, Dustin?"
"Called and said they couldn't make it."
"Wow, three years in a row. How odd," I say. "What's that smell?"
"Oh, I got sick in here last night. Watch your step."
I tiptoe through the mess until my right shoe hits something that smears.
"Watch out now!" Dustin laughs/coughs. "Hey, wanna you and I go out back and toss a few horseshoes?" Dustin asks. I don't want to for several reasons, but mainly because last time, he shot me in the arm for getting too close to his dogs.
"No, Dustin. I think I'll just stay in here and watch a little TV." I sit on a 3-foot stack of flattened six-pack cartons. Kristi just stands there with her eyes real big, looking at the litter box, apparently used by a Cape buffalo. Dustin goes out back and rummages through an old school bus.
"Let's get outta here," Kristi says.
I wake with a start on Friday morning. I look at my watch. The tryptophan in the turkey – it did it all in just one night! I run to hug Kristi.
"What is it, honey?"
"Nothing. I am just so thankful that I'm an only child. And I vow to keep Thanksgiving in my heart all year round."