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The Print

Gobbling Up Gratefulness

I could only have dreamed of a Thanksgiving spread this nice. Photo courtesy of Deposit Photos.
I could only have dreamed of a Thanksgiving spread this nice. Photo courtesy of Deposit Photos.

I sit around the table with my family on November 23rd. Today is a day full of love, togetherness, and dead birds. Grandma’s “famous” mashed potatoes steam directly in my face – in a few minutes, she will be scooping ten pounds of them onto my plate, and I will be drowning them in the entire saucer of gravy to cover up the taste of dry starch. Grandpa sits at the end of the table, pretending not to be dead asleep. 

After Aunt Karen says grace, chaos erupts, as my family explodes into conversation. Plates are being thrown around, the carving knife blares in my ear, and a spoonful of cranberry sauce hits my face from the kids’ table. Somehow, Uncle Jerry and Dad are already in a political argument. 

 Mom sweats in the kitchen, whipping out the last tray of rolls from the oven while my cousin screams and cries that his older brother ate them all. Next thing I know they’re shoving potatoes in each other’s hair, and their mom is screaming at them to “SHUT UP ALREADY!” 

Someone spills the gravy on the tablecloth, and Aunt Ilene asks my cousin (who I’m 99% sure is not straight) if he has a girlfriend yet. My dad slams the front door from across the whole room with a face as red as cranberry sauce, after Uncle Jerry (who is now sitting on the couch screaming at the TV as the football game plays) wouldn’t shut up about the next election.  

Five minutes into dinner, my grandma asks, “Who’s ready for pie?” as the baby cries because there aren’t any marshmallows left on the sweet potatoes. My mom is sobbing over a bottle of wine because no one is eating her green bean casserole. 

“Everyone. EVERYONE!” Aunt Ilene booms. The table falls silent. “How about we go around the table and say what we’re thankful for?” She points at me to begin.  

“Well…” I start. “I’m just thankful we were able to gather today, and truly appreciate and love each other. There’s truly no better way to show thanks than to be with such a kind, supportive, loveable family.” My family nods in agreement, until the baby erupts her meal into her diaper, masking the smell of seasoned, deceased turkey with something even more deadly –  commencing commotion once again. 

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About the Contributor
Juliana Vendetti, Staff Reporter
This is Jules’s first year as a journalist with The Print! Other than writing, her biggest passions include singing, acting, and teaching. She is currently President of the FHS Drama Company and can be found performing in community theatre outside of school as well. Shes also a cake decorator, performs as a party princess for children’s parties, and sings for St. Matthew Lutheran Church. She has always loved writing and is thrilled to be a member of The Print 
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