FIC: Holidays Series: Thanksgiving 1/1 (Bobby)
- Author: Kelsey
Disclaimer: Bobby isn't mine, sigh.
Archiving: Please ask!
Feedback: Will be welcomed with an extra helping of stuffing
Notes: This hasn't been BETAed 'cause I wanted to get it out before
Thanksgiving and I finally wrote it out tonight.
This is the first in a series of observations by the students of
Mutant High on Holidays. I was going to start at Halloween but St. John
One last thing: As I was spell checking my spell check picked up
"Xavier." Possible suggestions included "Savior" and "Caviar", does anyone
else find those two possibilities amusing and oddly fitting?
Food. Football. Four days where there is nothing to do but lay
around. I'm aware that no one should hate Thanksgiving, especially not
teenage boys. Here's the thing though, the 3 F's are all good, it is the 4th
one that I have the problem with. That's right ladies and gentlemen, family.
My parents, the ones who gratefully shipped their mutant son off to
boarding school at the ripe old age of 15, make their annual appearance at
Thanksgiving. If you're asking why Thanksgiving, you aren't the only one. My
parents claim it has something to do with spending Christmas with my friends,
but my personal theory is that no one socializes at Thanksgiving and thus I'm
not an embarrassment to my parents. Nice, huh?
They're very good at pretending, my parents are. So eager to see me
Wednesday after school. By Sunday I think we're all grateful that I'm on my
way back to Xavier's. It isn't only that I become a rude, sarcastic little
brat around these people, which I do admit, but I have nothing to say to my
parents. We spend 5 of 365 days together, how could we possibly interact? I
don't want to hear boring work stories anymore than they want to hear school
stories. Any story I have to tell that wouldn't bore these people, I won't
tell because after all they're still my parents.
My Mom has this lame tradition, we don't get any pie until we think
of two thingswe're thankful for, one we have to tell and the other we can
keep to ourselves. I always publicly say I'm thankful for good friends, a
little jab at my parents too, and am privately grateful Thanksgiving comes
only once a year.
Every year when my mother calls, I remember the unique hell of being
trapped in a house with her and my dad for four days. Every year I spend the
Wednesday before Thanksgiving whining to my friends and placing bets on the
annoying stuff my parents will do. Every year I hope this year will be
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