What Thanksgiving Means to Me- A Brief Essay- Part 1

Thanksgiving means friends and family gathered in the kitchen:

Wednesday night Heather walked in through the garage with a casserole dish. In the dish was an unceremoniously positioned, skinny, dead chicken that they had slaughtered in 19-degree weather. The feet were still intact and there were several tiny feathers that looked like black and grey hair. When Greg picked it up by the wings to show me the entire body, it was in full rigor mortis and looked exactly like a rubber chicken with a hairy chest. Although Greg claimed her name was Tanya, I was secretly suspicious that it was an elderly chicken named Frankie who got whacked for squawking too much.

I watched Greg cut off the feet and feed them to my dog. Who chewed them for a long time, unable to figure out what to do with the tough, hand-like bits. Finally, he realized he could just gulp it down and swallowed it whole. He made quick work of the second foot. It was all kind of gross but really funny. I was laughing and delighted while Sara cringed. Later, when I told John about the chicken looking like a novelty toy, his comment was, “I wouldn’t have been able to resist slapping someone with it; the temptation would have been too much to resist.” That thought never would have crossed my mind; leave it to a dude to bring the Marx Brothers to Thanksgiving dinner.

Thanksgiving means sharing your food and culture like the pilgrims and the natives:

So we tried to go to dinner Wednesday night. Matt suggested Munchies (Chinese, I think), so we drove over and found the windows dark and the restaurant empty. I suggested Shoga (Japanese and, of course, a surprise to anyone who knows me;). So we trekked over to Orem to discover that they were closed, too. Then I said something ignorant, “Wait a minute, if we have learned anything from Ralphie’s family it is that Asian restaurants are open on Christm…. Crap. Wrong holiday.”

We ended up at Pho and consequently the Vietnamese are now the only Asians I trust. They can come to my Thanksgiving any time; this is an open invitation. Bring on the Jalapeño Bombs!