I posted this in 09 and again last year, but what can I say? Tradition.
My brothers and me-- I was 7; Ben was 3, and Jon was 2.
Shortly
after this picture was taken, I pushed past a houseful of guests to be
first in line for the Thanksgiving buffet and heaped my plate high with
turkey, chopped liver, stuffing, cranberry orange relish, sweet
potatoes, green bean casserole-- you get the idea. I marched into the
library where the folding kids' table was set up, delighted that I
didn't have to waste time talking to my brothers or any guests, plopped
both my plate and my fat little self down on the bench, shot my cuffs,
picked up my fork, opened my mouth, and raised a heavy, quivering bite
of buttered roll and gravy-drenched meat to my eager lips. And then the
table collapsed under the weight of me and my leaning tower of flesh
and carbs.
Happy Thanksgiving. May you eat like no one's watching.
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