Hi're yuuuuu?

Bertie shuffled around the kitchen, stirring, rearranging, slamming cabinet doors shut while she muttered to herself about Lord knows what. In honor of Thanksgiving, three generations of her family had gathered in her cozy, slapshod house and were trying to ignore how awkward it was that they were related. They usually segregated themselves like children at a Middle School dance: boys on this side, girls on the other.
The front door squeaked open and slammed with a flimsy bang, as everyone turned to see who had  arrived. It was Ally, Bertie's middle child, who always smelled slightly of patchouli.
"Hi're yuuuu?" crowed Bertie as she grabbed Ally, gave her some sugar and hugged her neck.
"I'm good, Momma," Ally answered warmly. "How are you?"
"Oh, I'm good. My hip's been just aaaachin', and see my thumbs here," she held up the deeply-lined palms of hands. Ally looked, narrowed her eyes to slits -- all she could see were her mother's hands.
"See how this part is disappearin'?" Bertie asked as she rubbed the meaty bit of flesh directly beneath her thumb.
"No, Momma. I don't see that."
"Well, anyway ... you lookin' good. I just love to see you in some jeans," Bertie said as she turned to stir the cranberry sauce and take the homemade rolls out of the oven.
Ally walked towards the boys' club to say hello and overheard one of them explaining, "Yep. Whin I'm bow huntin', if I don't git that aim up, I will miuss ever' dayum tam."
"I've had similar issues with my own bow hunting," Ally offered, as 6 sets of eyes turned and stared as if she'd farted.
"Whoops," she chuckled. "Didn't mean to kill the conversation. Nice to see y'all again."
"I's reddy!" bellowed Bertie.
All three generations emptied into the kitchen, gathered around the overflowing tables and halted.
"Who's gonna say grace?" asked Bertie.
"Why don't you say, Momma? You did everything else. Might as well say grace, too" Ally suggested.
"Oh lawrd ... awright. BlessusohLordandthesethygiftswhichweareabouttorecievefromthybountythroughChristourLord, Amen."
"Amen," echoed the entire troop, in unison.
"Le's eat," Bertie cried.
With that, they descended on the hearty buffet like a tidal wave.