Living the American Dream

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Family Fun

Thanksgiving is a time for families. You see it on TV all the time. Everyone sits down at the table together. Little old grannies, cheeky nephews, overworked moms and dads waving carving knives around like they serve up meals every day. The table is groaning with food. Sometimes the turkey flies out of the window and the neighbour has to save the day.
This Thanksgiving we were fortunate enough to yet again be taken in by a real American family. Rebecca of Sunnybrook Drive invited us to her table right alongside her sit com family. After she said grace her two daughters laughed and squabbled at the table, just like our kids. The only difference is when someone else's kids argue it's fun. When your own do it it's a war zone. Rebecca's sister in law pulled out some purple knitting which turned out to be a cardigan she's making for her mother. She gave her a fitting with the knitting needles attached.
"Looks like you've still got the security tag in there," someone quipped.
They spent at least half an hour talking about which route to take home, old family recipes and memories of 1960s TV programmes that'd we'd never heard of.
Daughter No. 1 told the story of a friend of hers who went bowling after Thanksgiving one year.
"We told her that if you get three strikes in a row, it's called a turkey," she laughed. "We said if she got one it meant she could claim an actual turkey from the desk. She believed us, but luckily she didn't get one!"
We discussed the weight of the turkey, but no mention was made of the weight we'd all put on if we ever made it to the end of the meal.
After dinner the men flopped in front of the TV to watch football which must have been hard to hear at times over the laughter.
At one point in the proceedings, I noticed a family walking past look through the window. It's something I often do myself on walks. I get quite teary sometimes if I see a open garage filled with years of junk. How I used to hate our junk filled garage with all it's old memories we couldn't bring ourselves to throw away. Now ours is empty I hate it more.
Anyhow, today I confess to feeling a little smug as I looked back at them because for once I was on the inside.

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