Who's responsible for this traditional Thanksgiving we seem to have gotten caught up in? Norman Rockwell? Hollywood?
It's the same thing every year. We get this big turkey and all the trimmings. We invite family. Many of whom we don't even like and would prefer they'd go someplace else... but we invite them because they have no other place to go... and... they're family.
We spruce up the house, get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the "season". We're even excited and looking forward to the grand event.
The house fills with the aroma of baked turkey, pumpkin pie, and freshly baked rolls. Oh my, it makes your mouth water. The table is set. Everything is ready. The appointed hour has arrived... and so do your guests.
The doorbell rings... you rush to the door in eager anticipation... and you set eyes on sweet Aunt Elsie. You welcome her in, engage in polite conversation... then you remember how she took out her false teeth at the table grossing everyone out.
Thankfully, another guest arrives. Oh great! It's Billy and his family. Oh boy... it's quite clear. Memories of Thanksgiving Past are flooding your mind. Last year the twins let the Great Dane from next door in who promptly ran into the kitchen and snatched your turkey and ran out the door dripping saliva and turkey juices on your freshly polished floor.
You're ready to close the door... oops! It's Uncle Harold... goodness... who invited him... he talks with his mouth full blowing chunks of food in all directions as he turns his head to make sure he has your full attention. He brought eccentric Cousin Rita... now, that's another story for another time...
The doorbell rings again. You don't have the strength to answer it. You don't want to know who's outside the door. Oh... you take a deep breath... you brace yourself... it's Sally with her child from... you can see her clearly in your mind's eye rocking in her chair at Great Grandma's table... grabbing her fork and knife and banging and chanting "FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!"
You smile. Allow them entry. It's too late for you to run... so... you graciously await what fond memories this year will behold.
It's the same thing every year. We get this big turkey and all the trimmings. We invite family. Many of whom we don't even like and would prefer they'd go someplace else... but we invite them because they have no other place to go... and... they're family.
We spruce up the house, get caught up in the hustle and bustle of the "season". We're even excited and looking forward to the grand event.
The house fills with the aroma of baked turkey, pumpkin pie, and freshly baked rolls. Oh my, it makes your mouth water. The table is set. Everything is ready. The appointed hour has arrived... and so do your guests.
The doorbell rings... you rush to the door in eager anticipation... and you set eyes on sweet Aunt Elsie. You welcome her in, engage in polite conversation... then you remember how she took out her false teeth at the table grossing everyone out.
Thankfully, another guest arrives. Oh great! It's Billy and his family. Oh boy... it's quite clear. Memories of Thanksgiving Past are flooding your mind. Last year the twins let the Great Dane from next door in who promptly ran into the kitchen and snatched your turkey and ran out the door dripping saliva and turkey juices on your freshly polished floor.
You're ready to close the door... oops! It's Uncle Harold... goodness... who invited him... he talks with his mouth full blowing chunks of food in all directions as he turns his head to make sure he has your full attention. He brought eccentric Cousin Rita... now, that's another story for another time...
The doorbell rings again. You don't have the strength to answer it. You don't want to know who's outside the door. Oh... you take a deep breath... you brace yourself... it's Sally with her child from... you can see her clearly in your mind's eye rocking in her chair at Great Grandma's table... grabbing her fork and knife and banging and chanting "FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!"
You smile. Allow them entry. It's too late for you to run... so... you graciously await what fond memories this year will behold.
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