THANKSGIVING DELIGHT

21. November 2011 by Marie Pinschmidt.

Have you ever tried to create a story out of a specific list of words? We call this “fun” writing. Try these: tablecloth, pumpkin, pilgrims, Mayflower, turkey, cranberries, and succotash. Thanksgiving is nearly here and I thought you might get a chuckle out of my attempt at “fictional” humor. Just don’t think of my musings while eating your Thanksgiving dinner.

“The large trestle table was draped in Grandma’s heirloom lace tablecloth. The centerpiece held a grotesque, midlife crisis-shaped pumpkin flanked by two cheap porcelain pilgrims looking as if they had just straggled from the Mayflower and crawled to the rock of Plymouth. When the feast was laid out before my greedy family this Thanksgiving, lack of patiences would not be a problem for me. You see, I knew the biography of that big turkey.

Mom wasn’t aware that I was playing in the garage when she came out and opened the door of the old extra refrigerator. She reached in and maneuvered that turkey into both arms, turned and kicked the door shut with her foot. I barely stifled an audible gasp when suddenly that big bird slipped right out of her hands and landed breast down in that stinking kitty litter box. She looked around and, not seeing me behind Dad’s workbench, quickly picked up Old Tom and headed for the kitchen.

I knew in that moment I would never again feel the same about my mother’s cooking. Even the mincemeat pie on the sideboard had been made fatter by the addition of a box of moldy raisins she found all the way in the back of the cupboard. I know; I saw her rinse off the mold. She also didn’t know I was paying attention when she searched for something red to increase the quantity of the cranberry salad after Aunt Ida called to say she and my uncle were also coming for dinner. My eyes widened in horror when she took that handful of red peppers, chopped them to the correct size, and added them to the cranberries.

When my large family held hands to say the Thanksgiving Blessing, my prayer was that God would remove the memory of that litter box so I could, at least, enjoy the succotash.”

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

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