Now that I’ve had some time to unwind from Thanksgiving, I can look back on it and laugh. Why do we do this to ourselves? You’ve heard the saying, “There’s one in every family…” maybe two, three, four, ten? Who’s counting really?
This year’s joyous gathering was no different than the past. There were still the old favorites like too much food that no human should physically consume in a week let alone 4 hours. Mom’s favorite (because she makes 98% of them) “The Parade of Pies” – literally 13 this year!
The endless sharing of recipes or new takes on an old goodie; who grew the biggest or the most veggies this year – again, the award goes to mommy dearest. And who could forget the one dish that always seems to be forgotten in the oven until that wonderful burnt squash aroma starts filtering through the house.
Our family starts planning for Thanksgiving after the last piece of pie has been eaten. “Next year, we should have it at the farm next,” says Aunt Louise. “No, Fin and Margaret should host because they should be finished building their house,” pipes up Margaret’s mom. Really?? Because who doesn’t enjoy the process of moving, followed by a herd of hungry hippos crashing through the door! Well, next year’s location is still TBD.
I liken our family Thanksgiving to the Griswolds. If something can go wrong it will, and if it hasn’t gone wrong yet…it will. But even as the house exploded around us, I had to remember…this is…my family. And no matter what, we care about and love each other. Well, most of the time. We may be a special kind of crazy, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Until next time, be yourself. Everyone else is taken. (Oscar Wilde)