*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/751167-The-Usual-Thanksgiving
by Shaara
Rated: E · Short Story · Children's · #751167
Ruby was disgusted her family always had to eat the same thing for Thanksgiving Dinner.
Although this was written for the Writer's Cramp, it now has 1086 Words



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



The Usual Thanksgiving



         “I wish we could have something different for Thanksgiving this year,” I told my mother. “We always have the same thing: Grandma’s turkey and dressing, Aunt Sally’s cranberry sauce jello, Aunt Misha’s green bean casserole, your sweet potato and marshmallow dish, Dad’s Cajun Rice with broccoli, and Uncle Jeremy’s pies. Why can’t we have good old pizza?”

         Mom laughed, but she kept right on fixing a dinner salad. Dad was preparing the rest of our dinner. He chuckled, but didn’t say anything. He never talked when he was cooking. Dad was a gourmet chef, which means everything had to be fancy with him. It looked like we were having spinach leaves over chicken with mushrooms on the side. I groaned and left the kitchen.

         My sister, Misha, named for Aunt Misha, of course, was playing with her dolls. “Don’t you hate the way we always eat the same things for Thanksgiving?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it be cool if we could have pizza, or hamburgers, or something normal?”

         Misha giggled. She was always giggling when she wasn’t singing. She continued kicking her red shoes back and forth against the couch, and started warbling her lastest silly song about turkeys.

Mr. Turkey had five feathers.
Lost one feather, then one more.
Poor Mr. Turkey, bald Mr. Turkey.
So few feathers on his tail.


         Disgusted, I turned around and went to our room. I threw myself on the bed and thought about Thanksgiving dinner. All the relatives and all the usual stuff -- why couldn’t it be different this year? Why did it always have to be the same old, dull, boring thing?

         My best friend, Maria, said usually her family cooked tamales for Thanksgiving. It would be so cool to have tamales -- whatever they were. Bobby Joe told everyone his family was going out for dinner on Thanksgiving. That would be great! Susie said her family was going camping, and they’d probably eat hot dogs. And all I had to look forward to was dumb old turkey, just like every other year! It wasn’t fair.

         The next morning we got up, put on our fancy clothes, piled into the car, and drove to Grandma’s house. Grandma kissed us all over our faces, yick! and then she hugged us tight as a bed bug. I’ve never seen a bed bug but if they squeeze a body like that, I’m never going to sleep with one

         Aunt Sally and Uncle Jeremy came out and did their own hugging. Aunt Misha, was right behind them, and by the time all the relatives got through greeting me and telling me how much I’d grown since the last time they saw me, I felt like I was mashed potatoes.

         About an hour later we sat down to dinner. The table was laid out like it was every year. A big plastic turkey sat in the middle. Grandma insisted that we all wish it a Happy Thanksgiving. We did that every year, but my sister giggled like it was the first time.

         Aunt Misha led us in a prayer that went on and on. Then the orange, yellow, and brown placemats which Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Sally had given Grandma years and years before, had to be complimented before anyone could take a bite.

         Dad passed me the turkey, and I piled my plate with the usual old stuff. I tried to pretend that a piece of turkey was pizza, and I ate it with my fingers, but Momma made me put it down and use a fork. Everything tasted fine. Uncle Jeremy’s pies were good as always. I had a slice of the mincemeat and the pumpkin, but I kept wishing that at least one of the pies would be different -- but he’d made them just the same as always.

         When I went to school the next Monday, everyone kept talking about all the food they’d eaten. Bobby Joe told us he’d eaten turkey and dressing at the restaurant. I stared at him like he’d grown an extra nose.

         “What?” Bobby Joe said when I demanded to know why he'd ordered that. “It’s tradition,” he told me staring at me like I'd grown three heads.

         Then Maria told us proudly how her mother had fixed a real turkey dinner for them. Maria told us that like it was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her! No tamales? I cringed and turned to Susie. I knew that since she'd gone camping, she had to have eaten something different.

         “How were the hot dogs?” I asked her.

         Susie broke out laughing. She kept laughing and laughing until we all wanted to shake her quiet. Finally she stopped and snorted a couple of times, fighting off the giggles. “You’re going to just die,” she told us. “You’re never going to believe this,” she said, and then she went hysterical again.

         We all rolled our eyes and shot a look at the clock, hoping the bell wouldn’t ring before Susie finally told us.

         Susie saw our look, glanced up at the clock, drew in a deep breath, and said, “Dad barbecued a turkey at the campground! It was only a piece of one, but we had turkey and dressing just like we weren’t camping. It was so great!”

         I groaned even louder, and they all turned to stare at me. Then I had to tell them about all the things everyone had brought for our dinner.

         “Sweet potatoes with marshmallows. Yum!” my friends shouted so perfectly in unison, it was as if they’d been practicing.

         “Any leftovers?” Susie wanted to know.

         The bell rang, and we hurried off to our class. But all that day I kept thinking about how all of us had ended up eating the same thing. That was strange -- but kind of cool. Maybe tradition wasn’t really so bad, not if it seemed so important to all the others. I remembered the way Maria's eyes glowed because her mother had cooked a real turkey, how Bobby Joe had chosen turkey and dressing in a restaurant when he could have had a hamburger, and the way Susie had looked so happy when her father had made them the usual inspite of their being on a camping trip. Maybe for one day, tradition was okay if it unified everything and made everyone feel like it was Thanksgiving. Especially when the meal was accompanied by sweet potatoes with marshmallows!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


© Copyright 2003 Shaara (shaara at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/751167-The-Usual-Thanksgiving