Fathermas.
My father called me on December 25th and left me a message asking me to call him back. I say Bah Humbug, and decide to call him at my leisure. So, I walk down to Cyber Dogs (vegetarian notdog/internet joint with most things vegan. In Seattle) to get on the net and what have you, but when I arrive the place isn't open yet. So, I say what the hay and give that phone a ring. My father answers and tells me he has a house full of guests and will call me back. I agree. He also asks me why I am waiting for a coffee shop to open on xmas, and I reply with. "what else would I be doing?"
So, this is where the bitch comes in. He calls me, and gives me the small talk. Then he starts on why he's full and what he had made for dinner. The lame ass makes sure to tell me every animal ingredient in all things made. The list goes as follows: "I made a turkeyº and honeyº glazed hamº." "I made some mashed potatoes with milkº and real butterº, oh yeah and garlic and rosemary." "The stuffing was excellent, it had gibletsº." "Your stepmother made a sweet potato soufflé. Yeah that has eggsº in it." "Your grandmother made a dessert, with walnuts, and cremeº and butterº and brown sugar. [It came out like..." "Brittle" I interrupt. "No, not brittle." "Brittle, like peanut brittle." "Oh right, like brittle."] (Then He goes into a dessert that sounds fantastic) "Your stepmother toasted walnuts with cranberries and apples..." (My mouth was watering) "...then she threw it all in a cherry jello®º."
Thanks for telling me every animal ingredient in your meal asshole. I half expected a "Your grandfather got me a wool sweater and a leather jacket and suede boots" too.
JB
My father called me on December 25th and left me a message asking me to call him back. I say Bah Humbug, and decide to call him at my leisure. So, I walk down to Cyber Dogs (vegetarian notdog/internet joint with most things vegan. In Seattle) to get on the net and what have you, but when I arrive the place isn't open yet. So, I say what the hay and give that phone a ring. My father answers and tells me he has a house full of guests and will call me back. I agree. He also asks me why I am waiting for a coffee shop to open on xmas, and I reply with. "what else would I be doing?"
So, this is where the bitch comes in. He calls me, and gives me the small talk. Then he starts on why he's full and what he had made for dinner. The lame ass makes sure to tell me every animal ingredient in all things made. The list goes as follows: "I made a turkeyº and honeyº glazed hamº." "I made some mashed potatoes with milkº and real butterº, oh yeah and garlic and rosemary." "The stuffing was excellent, it had gibletsº." "Your stepmother made a sweet potato soufflé. Yeah that has eggsº in it." "Your grandmother made a dessert, with walnuts, and cremeº and butterº and brown sugar. [It came out like..." "Brittle" I interrupt. "No, not brittle." "Brittle, like peanut brittle." "Oh right, like brittle."] (Then He goes into a dessert that sounds fantastic) "Your stepmother toasted walnuts with cranberries and apples..." (My mouth was watering) "...then she threw it all in a cherry jello®º."
Thanks for telling me every animal ingredient in your meal asshole. I half expected a "Your grandfather got me a wool sweater and a leather jacket and suede boots" too.
JB
posted by Beldotti at 3:51 PM
1 Comments:
I find that even family members and friends who respect my veganism tell me about their animal foods, almost mindlessly. Maybe they're so used to talking about these foods that they forget that the person to whom they're talking deeply objects to them, or rather to the cruelty behind them.
Which makes me wonder...In my pre-vegan days, when I was less aware of things, did I used to tell Muslims about ham that I had, or Hindus about the hamburger I ate? I sure hope not, but who knows, maybe I was that clueless.
Anyway, here's hoping that future holidays improve. Perhaps Seattle has a vegetarian society that holds vegan holiday feasts.
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