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Thanksgiving
Mishaps
By Daniel Blankenship
We are about to hit one of the funniest times
of the year. Anything that combines food, family and shopping has
all the elements of inherent conflict if I have ever seen them.
Let me describe a bit of a typical Thanksgiving for my family. We
all try to get up early so we can cook the turkey. However, my mother
usually ends up being the one who actually gets up while the rest
of us hit the snooze button, making the excuse that it's a holiday.
Mom will wake us up, declaring that she is not going to do the whole
thing again another year. Then, after a good beating with a pillow,
stuffed animal, or whatever is available, we begrudgingly get up
and start the traditions.
To start the morning, someone is always looking for videotapes to
record the parades. We need at least three tapes to cover all the
major ones. Next, we each end up fighting for oven space to cook
our favorite dish and to avoid everyone else's. My particular favorite
is cornbread dressing. Every year I attempt to make as much as possible
so I can gorge on it for several days. (You know you do it too.)
We all yell at each other as we flurry around the kitchen, while
Dad settles the argument with, "This is a holiday; we are here to
enjoy ourselves. Behave!"
The cooking continues for several hours until dinner is finally
finished. Then the unwritten rule of cooking hits us: The cook is
never hungry after cooking the meal. So we pick up our plates and
pop in and have some of those famed family discussions that only
we understand (much akin to the discussion seen on "While You Were
Sleeping," with Lucy, the whole family, Caesar Romero who was tall,
Spain has good beef, and mashed potatoes that are so creamy.
After we actually eat dinner, we start the avoiding the dish routine.
You know what I'm talking about. We all begin claiming that the
turkey is a natural sedative and that we are completely zonked.
So we all fall asleep watching our three holiday movies: "Miracle
on 34th Street" (we own it in every version known to man: black
and white, colorized, 20th anniversary, the remake, etc.), "Holiday
Inn" and "White Christmas." After a nice nap, we all quarrel over
who gets to look at the sales ads for each other's Christmas presents.
The day after Thanksgiving, I can just see God saying, "Let's get
ready to rumble," as He watches all His children fight traffic to
obtain that perfect gift and move on to the next store. Mom mobilizes
us and sends different teams to various stores, getting those once
a year deals. After fighting lines and struggling to speak life
to irate customers, we head home for leftovers.
Then begins the great quest to decorate for Christmas. Everyone
should see my house: It is a veritable winter playland. Christmas
lights, animatronics, Christmas trees, fake snow, Disney snow globes,
garland, nativity scenes, etc. adorn my front yard by the time we
are finished. Instead of driving around looking at lights, people
come from near and far to my house to see the Christmas musuem.
We need to hire an actor to play Santa Claus and we could charge.
This Thanksgiving, why don't you look at your family--or lack of
one--and see what is special about it. Think of all the hilarity
of Aunt Ethel and Uncle George complaining about the price of gas,
and the stories of Great Grandpa Cecil and World War I (or is it
II). I challenge you to step back and thank God for family, including
the following: Constant nagging of "Why aren't you married yet?
I know someone who would be perfect for you," "How's that college,"
"I remember when you were little," "I wish you could cook," football
games, leftovers, the dishes and prayers of deliverance, dirty diapers,
bad traffic and repetitive stories.
My second challenge is to get all that homework done that you have
been avoiding all semester. Please remember that these are the least
stressful years of our lives.
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