Indoor Skydiving? As a wee one? As my little brother so succinctly put it, "Yet ANOTHER thing I was not doing at age 5."
The only reason I am thankful Thanksgiving is over is I am simply not a fan of Thanksgiving food. The resulting good news is, this isn't a growth holiday for me. As in, my arse sees no growth. But we had a spread, let me tell you. And I am thankful to be back in Warmlanta where it is going to be 65 today.
There is so much to be thankful for. I know this everyday. I am happy, I am loved. I love others. Life is good. I hope you all had a great holiday as well. And while I was home, I was reminded of this story. Too good not to share again.
True Story:
During our sophomore year of college, a girlfriend of mine, KK, went home for a week over Thanksgiving break. Her boyfriend was invited home with her for the holiday. Her parents had agreed to this arrangement only if he stayed in the younger brother's room. Right.
Upon his arrival days before Thanksgiving, he
placed his overnight bag and backpack in their entryway. Later, in
effort to help him take his bags upstairs, KK picked up his backpack by
the bottom. Unfortunately it was only partially zipped and overstuffed
with books he would never take one look at during the break. Gravity
and weight working against her, the zipper flew open and the contents
emptied into the foyer. To which her younger brother, about 12 at the
time, spied some contraband and shouted, "MOM, ROB HAS RUBBERS IN HIS
BAG." KK was mortified as most 19 year-olds would be. Rob's
mortification doubled hers. Her Mom, walking in from the kitchen, spied
the bedlam as well and then decided Rob could sleep in the basement.
On Thanksgiving, with a slew of family over for dinner, the group has a great dinner as KK’s Mom and Dad are both fantastic cooks. For the dessert bonanza, her five year old little sister presented a pie she had made as a special surprise. Mom assisted in most of the utensil and ingredient assembly. The 5 y.o. called around the corner to ask the Mom where she could locate the main ingredient, pumpkin, which her Mom said “look for the orange can in the cupboard.” Surprise pie made, she was so proud of her creation. When it was cut open and plated, her Dad was the first to sample. After one bite, the Dad halted all other taste-testers. “Honey, what did you use to make the pie?”
On Thanksgiving, with a slew of family over for dinner, the group has a great dinner as KK’s Mom and Dad are both fantastic cooks. For the dessert bonanza, her five year old little sister presented a pie she had made as a special surprise. Mom assisted in most of the utensil and ingredient assembly. The 5 y.o. called around the corner to ask the Mom where she could locate the main ingredient, pumpkin, which her Mom said “look for the orange can in the cupboard.” Surprise pie made, she was so proud of her creation. When it was cut open and plated, her Dad was the first to sample. After one bite, the Dad halted all other taste-testers. “Honey, what did you use to make the pie?”
“Whip cream!”
“What else?”
“Punkin!”
“Can you show me the Pumpkin can?”
All
eyes at the table ever so curious….the little sister returns from the
kitchen with an empty can. Canned pumpkin not the ONLY orange can in
the cupboard. Was the surprise the pie itself? Or was the surprise that
her sister had made a pie of wet cat food and covered it with Cool
Whip?
Thankfully,
after the laughter subsided, there were other pies to eat. At least
the spilled rubbers in the foyer were forgotten about...
And finally, after dinner and ready to be
strewn about the downstairs den watching football and family games,
KK’s Mom opens the basement door to let the dog up who had been
sequestered during Thanksgiving dinner revelry and Cat Pie a la mode.
The dog races up ever so enthusiastically as the family files
downstairs. KK’s Father, first in line, is quick to discover someone
didn’t leave the guest bathroom door closed and the dog got into and
traipsed the garbage can contents about like tinsel on a tree. He was
also the first (of many) to discover that certain visiting holiday
guests apparently didn’t learn in college that you flush used condoms
down the toilet and DO NOT put them in the garbage can wrapped in
tissue.
KK instantly wished they were back at the
table eating cat food pie. Rob planned to pack his bags and immediately
vacate the household. Nothing like observing evidence of someone's
active sex life to combat the tryptophan.
What was KK most thankful for that year?
When Thanksgiving ended. And of course, in later years, she could
appreciate three very memorable stories all of which summarized by her
family as the "Poor Rob" weekend. Even long after Rob was but a memory.
I hope your holiday was just as lively.