A few weeks ago, I wrote an article about my parents and their quirks. The piece was typed up from the comfort of my NYC apartment with details procured strictly from memory. However, Thanksgiving afforded me a chance to return to my childhood home and immerse myself once more in the eccentricities of family life. Much like Obama’s arrival in Jersey and survey of Sandy for the first time, one simply can’t appreciate the carnage until he witnesses it first hand. My parents aren’t bad people in any sense; they are kind, loving human beings and the most important figures in my life. Hell, Dad got me this laptop. Rather, Mom and Dad echo a sort of Frank and Estelle Costanza-type dysfunction, which is as amusing as it is exhausting.  In turn, I am their George, replete with all the neuroses and insecurities that come along with having spent 18 years alongside two people who refused to purchase a microwave oven because it would “ruin their daily routine”. Unfortunately, it’s my life and no one can change the channel.  To this day, I try to cook Lean Cuisine in the oven. Regardless of our social dynamic, I decided to embrace my time at home and appreciate my family and myself for who we are. In other words, I documented their every move like Jane Goodall monitoring a troop of chimpanzees. The results are posted below.

2:00 p.m.:  Dad picks me up at the train station.

“Are you hungover?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“Yes.”

2:15 p.m.:  We arrive home.

Dad proudly shows me his new iPad. I tap the Safari icon, revealing the previously visited page. It’s YouPorn. A video resumes playing. A bored woman moans disingenuously as she is double penetrated by two burly co-stars.

“Dad, gross!”
“What? It’s free!”

I am not as disturbed as I am impressed that he knew about YouPorn.

3:00 p.m.: Thanksgiving Dinner.

Dad attempts to cut the turkey with a new electric carver. The blade comes off the handle and gets lodged in the bird. He curses profusely, handle in hand. My mom calls him a “schmuck” and she snaps the blade back on to the handle. She attempts to carve the turkey, yielding the same results. The two begin arguing. I decide to give it a shot. The handle’s “BLADE RELEASE” button was on the whole time.

3:45 p.m.: We discuss Hipsters

“Ev, what’s a hipster? I keep hearing about all these hipsters everywhere!”

I open up my laptop and show my Dad Tumblr blogs and Instagram accounts of bearded men drinking PBRs and riding fixies.

“What kind of jobs do they have?”
“I don’t know, some work at artisanal pickle stores…. some write.”
“Does that make you a hipster?”

This question leads to deep introspection and soul-searching as I silently convince myself that I am not. Dammit, Dad.

4:15 p.m.: My mom attempts to remember the name of her new favorite TV show.

“Y’know…it’s the one on HBO…with the girls…”
She is referring to HBO’s Girls.

5:00 p.m.: Post-dinner conversation

“Grandma Shirley is going for her mammography tomorrow. You know what a mammography is, right Ev?
“Yes, Mom. Anyway-
“It’s when they put the booby on glass and—“
“Got it, Mom!”

5:30 p.m.: Nap time

We simultaneously pass out on our 3-piece sectional. Who needs football when we can tackle each other’s emotional issues?!

Have any funny family interactions over the holidays? Think I’m an unappreciative little prick? Are your parent’s dead? That sucks. Leave your thoughts in the comment section and the best one will receive a comment back from me!!! Isn’t that rewarding?!

Krum is an NYC based comedian that has mixed feelings regarding his father's masturbatory content preferences. Follow him on Twitter @KrumLifeDotCom