Saturday, 27 November 2004 | Third person

Some nice things about my family, as witnessed on the day after Thanksgiving:

My grandparents call their stereo "the hi-fi."

Without being asked, my mom brought me a Tofurkey all the way from North Carolina to West Virginia.

Even though I'd missed the official Thanksgiving dinner, my mom and aunt made a second traditional dinner, replacing the food that had been consumed the day before.

My cousin, who is named (and goes by) Rich Whiteman, ate some Tofurkey, specifically to "make [his] cousin happy." My family's response to the Tofurkey was overwhelmingly average, which is better than I'd imagined.

For the most part, my family avoided talking about politics. Also, when I pointed out they'd been talking about hunting and guns for a good two hours, they made a concerted effort to change the subject.

My mom complimented my aunt on her sweater, and my aunt informed her, "You gave me this sweater." (My mom hadn't realized.)

My grandparents are not intimidated by new technology (they've had email for years, in fact). On Friday morning my grandfather and I studied his most recent acquisitions: a cell phone, a digital camera, and a CD burner. He listened carefully to my instructions and confirmed his understanding. He's addicted to the computer, my grandmother tells me.

My grandfather swears that composted banana peels are responsible for the tall rose bush in the backyard. (I believe him; it's just nice.) When my grandmother was in the hospital recently, he regularly brought her roses from that bush. (My mom suggested that when he ran out of roses, he brought her banana peels, but I'm not sure that's true. She may have just been getting him back for saying that he "wouldn't walk too far" to eat the cranberry chutney she'd made.)

My dad drove me to the hardware store and spent ten minutes helping me choose between two (nearly identical) white bathroom tiles.

My grandmother (who, incidentally, has the softest skin on the planet) refers to herself in the third person and says things like, "Grandma's looking forward to seeing what you put on your web page," even when groggy with sleep at 4 in the morning. (That's a little bit alarming to me, but somehow nice as well.)