I Prove There Really IS A Thanksgiving Curse
I ran a contest on my Facebook page a couple of weeks ago...tell me about your lamest/weirdest/saddest/wildest Thanksgiving, and as a reward for your pain, I'll stick you with an autographed book. Despite my threats, my FB fans responded with the most amazing stories! I've posted the winners below...I was going for funny or weird or sad, and as you'll see, that's exactly what I got. Say it with me: you poor, poor kids!
* * *
The Thanksgiving that I will never forget happened when I was 12 (in 1987).
My older brother (age 15) and I were sitting at the table with our parents. My dad says, "I know it's not a tradition that we normally do, but let's just go around the table and say what we're thankful for this year." And, after much grumbling on my part and after my brother's 30-second sigh, we started to go around the table and give our thanks.
My father started us off with "I'm so thankful for my wonderful children and all the ways that they make me proud." My brother was thankful for his Diamondback dirt bike, I was thankful for all of the elephants in the world. And then, when it was my mother's turn, she said: "I am thankful that your father and I have decided to get a divorce."
[followed by 2 minutes of heavy silence]
And then our dad said, "This is not how we were going to tell them!"
And my mom said "Well, it is what I'm most thankful for."
My brother and I just moved our heads back & forth following their conversation for a few minutes until we could eventually respond with our trademarked "default" reactions: my brother ran up to his room, slammed the door, and blasted his loud heavy metal music while I immediately put myself into the mix and yelled at my parents. I remember asking them why they were being so inconsiderate to us. And then I promptly accused them both of being selfish for putting their own happiness above ours.
[Although, in hindsight, I am quite happy to report that after everything was said and done, I was pleased to discover that I like the divorced version of my parents far more than the married ones!]
But it was such a surreal experience - having to find out that way - that I will never forget that fateful Thanksgiving.
*****************************************************
Many, many years ago when I was 16 years old, my family was gathering to celebrate Thanksgiving at my house. Mother and I had spent most of the day cooking and cleaning - the standard prep when company is coming to visit. So everything was perfect and my Aunt Cheryl arrived - then shortly after that my MeeMaw (grandmother) and Pop (grandfather) arrived. We were in the dining room visiting and waiting for the rest of the family to get to the house, when I had gone into my bedroom to get something. To explain a little...my house was an older Victorian home that had been slowly remodeled through the years and in my room there was a dropped ceiling. Going into my room on that lovely day I could hear something scratching in the corner of the dropped ceiling. Slowly a hole was being formed from above by some unknown creature. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Being a girl, I totally screamed and my mother and Aunt Cheryl came in to see what was going on. During the brief period of time it took me to explain the hole and the scratching noise, the small hole was now large enough for the squirrel to stick out his head. And apparently, his body, as he then dropped to the floor and ran under my bed. My mother rushed the door and slummed it shut, hoping to save the Thanksgiving meal but essentially trapping it in my very own sanctuary (aka: room). Being trapped seriously ticked off the squirrel and he proceeded to run around the room and up the walls... throwing all my girley stuff to the floor, ripping two intricate shadow boxes off the wall, and knocking over lamps. My mother thought that maybe our cats would like the hunt, so she escaped and then returned with Queenie and Tootsie. Well, the cats didn't want anything to do with the squirrel so they were clawing at the door and screaming to be let out. During this my Aunt Cheryl was trying to get a window open, but since it's an older home, she wasn't having any luck. Hearing all of the commotion my Meemaw opened the door and the cats almost tripped her trying to escape the psychotic squirrel -who had ramped up his madness to climbing on the curtains and flying through the air trying to free himself from our scary house. At this time the adults regrouped and decided that they'd have to attack the window from the outside and see if they could get it open. My mother went out and managed to break the screen at the very top of a very tall window. We just now had to get the squirrel to go out the window which was at least six feet up. We had hoped that the squirrel would just go for it, but we had to come up with a plan. My mother and Aunt Cheryl both had brooms and were going to herd him to the window... mother had lost sight of him and asked me to see if the squirrel was under the bed. I slightly bent over to check as I was unarmed...when the squirrel rushed me, ran up my body, sat on my head, and then jumped out the window. My mother and Aunt were laughing at my expression while I was crying from the whole experience - looking at my destroyed room and hating squirrels at that moment. We opened the bedroom door and went into the dining room where my Pop was just calmly reading the paper. Even during the screams and all the commotion and the cursing he never came to check on us. He was just enjoying his relaxing Thanksgiving... and wasn't going to let anything take him from it. He was the smartest of all of us. Luckily the rest of the Thanksgiving holiday was great (once I cleaned my room thoroughly) and it's always a running joke about how I dislike squirrels. In fact to this very day, if I see a squirrel up way too close I do get a little twitchy. :) Happy Thanksgiving!
*********************************************
The weirdest thanksgiving EVER in my family. I am the oldest in a family with four kids. Me, my brother Jason, then the twins, Jill and Mark. The twins and my brother were in high school, which made me college age. However, even though we were all teenagers, we were the only grandchildren on my mother's side and forced to sit at the dreaded kids table. Which really wasn't so bad because it was a card table in the living room, right in front of the TV. We had a cool uncle (OK, our only uncle on my mom's side) who brought his VCR and some tapes for us to watch. (Because my grandma lived in the boonies and didn't even have cable or a VCR - boring!) Guess what we picked to watch during our wonderful family meal - HELLRAISER! Do not ask me why my mother or my grandmother allowed this. I am not sure if we picked this movie because we thought it would be cool, or if we did it to gross out the adults. Regardless, the meal went OK until a particularly gross part, and my brother started choking on turkey. I freaked out and ran into the back bedroom because I don't do good with puke. I can handle a blood movie about a guy who has pins in his face while eating dinner, but can't handle a normal bodily function. But then I thought "maybe I should call 911", so I ran back into the living room, because Grandma only had one phone. Which would have been a great idea HAD SHE NOT LIVED IN THE BOONIES WHERE THERE IS NO 911 SERVICE. Fortunately, calmer heads prevailed......my mother did the Heimlich on my brother, the turkey came flying out of my brother's throat and landed on the carpet. Which my father picks up and says "Turkey!". Like we needed a forensic analysis of what was causing the blockage. And dinner continued as usual for the entire family, except me, who was practically rocking in the corner from the drama. If you fast forward my life about 20 years, there is a similar story, however, it happened at a Chili's restaurant. My husband was eating nachos. All of a sudden, he has his hands over his mouth, like he is trying to hold back a torrent of vomit. As you know my aversion to barf, much less barf in a public place, I yell "Go to the bathroom if you are going to throw up!" But he wasn't barfing, he was choking...and I just sent him to the bathroom BY HIMSELF. After about a minute I send my son, who was 11, into the bathroom to check on his dad because I was too chicken. Zach (my son) opened the bathroom door and yelled "DAD!" and we heard my husband yell "GET OUT! I AM FINE!" My husband comes back to the table, eyes watery and blood shot. Apparently he WAS choking. He managed to get into a stall and was trying to cough the chip out. However, he passed out from lack of oxygen. As he was falling, he falls into the wall in the bathroom on the way to the floor, which dislodged the the chip so he could breathe again. Therefore, bracing himself before hitting the cold hard floor. And the saddest part of the story, I was certified in First Aid/CPR the week before for Girl Scouts. So what have you learned from this story? Don't trust me in a medical emergency, because I will send you to the bathroom to die.
* * *
The Thanksgiving that I will never forget happened when I was 12 (in 1987).
My older brother (age 15) and I were sitting at the table with our parents. My dad says, "I know it's not a tradition that we normally do, but let's just go around the table and say what we're thankful for this year." And, after much grumbling on my part and after my brother's 30-second sigh, we started to go around the table and give our thanks.
My father started us off with "I'm so thankful for my wonderful children and all the ways that they make me proud." My brother was thankful for his Diamondback dirt bike, I was thankful for all of the elephants in the world. And then, when it was my mother's turn, she said: "I am thankful that your father and I have decided to get a divorce."
[followed by 2 minutes of heavy silence]
And then our dad said, "This is not how we were going to tell them!"
And my mom said "Well, it is what I'm most thankful for."
My brother and I just moved our heads back & forth following their conversation for a few minutes until we could eventually respond with our trademarked "default" reactions: my brother ran up to his room, slammed the door, and blasted his loud heavy metal music while I immediately put myself into the mix and yelled at my parents. I remember asking them why they were being so inconsiderate to us. And then I promptly accused them both of being selfish for putting their own happiness above ours.
[Although, in hindsight, I am quite happy to report that after everything was said and done, I was pleased to discover that I like the divorced version of my parents far more than the married ones!]
But it was such a surreal experience - having to find out that way - that I will never forget that fateful Thanksgiving.
*****************************************************
Many, many years ago when I was 16 years old, my family was gathering to celebrate Thanksgiving at my house. Mother and I had spent most of the day cooking and cleaning - the standard prep when company is coming to visit. So everything was perfect and my Aunt Cheryl arrived - then shortly after that my MeeMaw (grandmother) and Pop (grandfather) arrived. We were in the dining room visiting and waiting for the rest of the family to get to the house, when I had gone into my bedroom to get something. To explain a little...my house was an older Victorian home that had been slowly remodeled through the years and in my room there was a dropped ceiling. Going into my room on that lovely day I could hear something scratching in the corner of the dropped ceiling. Slowly a hole was being formed from above by some unknown creature. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Being a girl, I totally screamed and my mother and Aunt Cheryl came in to see what was going on. During the brief period of time it took me to explain the hole and the scratching noise, the small hole was now large enough for the squirrel to stick out his head. And apparently, his body, as he then dropped to the floor and ran under my bed. My mother rushed the door and slummed it shut, hoping to save the Thanksgiving meal but essentially trapping it in my very own sanctuary (aka: room). Being trapped seriously ticked off the squirrel and he proceeded to run around the room and up the walls... throwing all my girley stuff to the floor, ripping two intricate shadow boxes off the wall, and knocking over lamps. My mother thought that maybe our cats would like the hunt, so she escaped and then returned with Queenie and Tootsie. Well, the cats didn't want anything to do with the squirrel so they were clawing at the door and screaming to be let out. During this my Aunt Cheryl was trying to get a window open, but since it's an older home, she wasn't having any luck. Hearing all of the commotion my Meemaw opened the door and the cats almost tripped her trying to escape the psychotic squirrel -who had ramped up his madness to climbing on the curtains and flying through the air trying to free himself from our scary house. At this time the adults regrouped and decided that they'd have to attack the window from the outside and see if they could get it open. My mother went out and managed to break the screen at the very top of a very tall window. We just now had to get the squirrel to go out the window which was at least six feet up. We had hoped that the squirrel would just go for it, but we had to come up with a plan. My mother and Aunt Cheryl both had brooms and were going to herd him to the window... mother had lost sight of him and asked me to see if the squirrel was under the bed. I slightly bent over to check as I was unarmed...when the squirrel rushed me, ran up my body, sat on my head, and then jumped out the window. My mother and Aunt were laughing at my expression while I was crying from the whole experience - looking at my destroyed room and hating squirrels at that moment. We opened the bedroom door and went into the dining room where my Pop was just calmly reading the paper. Even during the screams and all the commotion and the cursing he never came to check on us. He was just enjoying his relaxing Thanksgiving... and wasn't going to let anything take him from it. He was the smartest of all of us. Luckily the rest of the Thanksgiving holiday was great (once I cleaned my room thoroughly) and it's always a running joke about how I dislike squirrels. In fact to this very day, if I see a squirrel up way too close I do get a little twitchy. :) Happy Thanksgiving!
*********************************************
The weirdest thanksgiving EVER in my family. I am the oldest in a family with four kids. Me, my brother Jason, then the twins, Jill and Mark. The twins and my brother were in high school, which made me college age. However, even though we were all teenagers, we were the only grandchildren on my mother's side and forced to sit at the dreaded kids table. Which really wasn't so bad because it was a card table in the living room, right in front of the TV. We had a cool uncle (OK, our only uncle on my mom's side) who brought his VCR and some tapes for us to watch. (Because my grandma lived in the boonies and didn't even have cable or a VCR - boring!) Guess what we picked to watch during our wonderful family meal - HELLRAISER! Do not ask me why my mother or my grandmother allowed this. I am not sure if we picked this movie because we thought it would be cool, or if we did it to gross out the adults. Regardless, the meal went OK until a particularly gross part, and my brother started choking on turkey. I freaked out and ran into the back bedroom because I don't do good with puke. I can handle a blood movie about a guy who has pins in his face while eating dinner, but can't handle a normal bodily function. But then I thought "maybe I should call 911", so I ran back into the living room, because Grandma only had one phone. Which would have been a great idea HAD SHE NOT LIVED IN THE BOONIES WHERE THERE IS NO 911 SERVICE. Fortunately, calmer heads prevailed......my mother did the Heimlich on my brother, the turkey came flying out of my brother's throat and landed on the carpet. Which my father picks up and says "Turkey!". Like we needed a forensic analysis of what was causing the blockage. And dinner continued as usual for the entire family, except me, who was practically rocking in the corner from the drama. If you fast forward my life about 20 years, there is a similar story, however, it happened at a Chili's restaurant. My husband was eating nachos. All of a sudden, he has his hands over his mouth, like he is trying to hold back a torrent of vomit. As you know my aversion to barf, much less barf in a public place, I yell "Go to the bathroom if you are going to throw up!" But he wasn't barfing, he was choking...and I just sent him to the bathroom BY HIMSELF. After about a minute I send my son, who was 11, into the bathroom to check on his dad because I was too chicken. Zach (my son) opened the bathroom door and yelled "DAD!" and we heard my husband yell "GET OUT! I AM FINE!" My husband comes back to the table, eyes watery and blood shot. Apparently he WAS choking. He managed to get into a stall and was trying to cough the chip out. However, he passed out from lack of oxygen. As he was falling, he falls into the wall in the bathroom on the way to the floor, which dislodged the the chip so he could breathe again. Therefore, bracing himself before hitting the cold hard floor. And the saddest part of the story, I was certified in First Aid/CPR the week before for Girl Scouts. So what have you learned from this story? Don't trust me in a medical emergency, because I will send you to the bathroom to die.
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