Ah, thanksgiving. What a wonderful holiday, turkey, family, and arguments. Let’s skip past the standard happy thanksgiving greetings and get right to the juicy bits. What is your most memorable thanksgiving dinner? I have two that come to mind, both that ended in the cooking of a frozen pizza.
Once, when I was a child, we had an old stray tomcat that decided to move in. Well after a long morning of food preparation the table was set. We took a moment to sit in the living room while we waited for the last guest to arrive. A knock came at the kitchen door, dad got up to answer. What followed can only be described as a stream of words that no child should hear uttered from a parents lips. We of course rushed to see what was going on. From the empty cavity of our traditional bird carcass protruded the tail and back legs of a very contented feline. He had not only decided he was going to have some turkey, but he decided to have it from the inside out. Of course in his rush to dine he stepped in, spilled, and sampled the other various victuals that graced the table. Only the pies sitting warm in the oven, and fruit salad chilling in the refrigerator survived the onslaught of the greedy feline.
The Next memory that surfaces involves a large serving platter. It had been the final resting place of many a foul since before my time, a wonderfully decorated ceramic masterpiece circa 1965. It was a thanksgiving like any other, no more undue stress than is to be expected. We were all helping out in the kitchen, stirring this, opening that, blissfully unaware of what was about to occur. The meal was close to 90% finished. Then suddenly a scream broke the silence of the final preparations. I turned shocked, and before me no longer stood my wonderful mother, but in her place was a being of unfathomable terror, fearsome to behold. The beast reached down, and picked something up, in one fell swoop tradition was shattered. For no reason that I have ever been able to grasp, and have yet to be informed of my dear mother slammed the platter to the floor. She took a moment to compose herself, then calmly walked out of the kitchen and retired for the day. Having no idea what to make of the sudden outburst dad and I finished the meal preparations. Rather than eating when done, we simply set the whole meal aside as leftovers. Dad went to the bedroom to check on mom, and I sat confused in the back yard trying to figure out what could have triggered the event.
Well, these are my cherished holiday memories, missing only the Bumpas’ dogs. What wonderful events past grace your memory on this holiday?