February 26, 2003

Today is the day to put something in somebody else's mouth.

Hey jerks. When were you a jerk?

37

George stared down Meredith's Iowan home. She and her husband Bob were living paycheck to paycheck ever since their third kid came around, but they weren't necessarily in financial danger, and so they managed to live in a fairly nice, albeit 'cozy' home.

It was cute, neat home that was obviously well taken care of. The only thing that gave George any kind of sense of superiority was a faded, leftover Valentine taped in the window made by Meredith's four-year-old daughter Julia. Meredith, like her brother George, was no sentimentalist and she had tried to take down the cardboard paper 'decoration,' but Julia had thrown such a fit and accused Meredith of being 'ashamed of her efforts' (fairly heavy guilt-tripping for a child that young) that Meredith, exasperated, left it up. She knew that George would see the Valentine and smirk and rack it up to Meredith's being a bourgeoise. The very thought almost made her rip down the Valentine anyway but she stopped herself, grudgingly admitting to herself that maybe sibling rivalry shouldn't be so strong as to make uninvolved toddlers cry.

George hadn't told his parents that he was going to visit his parents (or did he? we can't remember), because he didn't want to listen to their gentle yet irritatingly constant pleadings that they get along. They came from impossibly large, happy families and the acrimony between their children caused them a constant rueful sighing sadness that George found thoroughly annoying.

George raised his knuckles to rap on the door, but Meredith opened it before he could actually knock. He wondered if he could get away from knocking her on the forehead in the name of a mistake, but by this point, he had been thinking about it for too long and it would seem too purposeful.

"Hello George."

"Meredith."

"Come in."

George entered, shuddered at the vague family household smells like laundry detergent and apple juice and dropped his bag. He and Meredith exchanged the weakest embrace in the history of the universe, merely bending their elbows at their sides and leaning forward, leaning away from each other as soon as possible. The length of the hug was exactly long enough for one eyeball-roll from George and Meredith, over the shoulder of the other.