HAPPY THANKSGIVING MY CANADIAN TURKEYS

 

What do you get if you put together a turkey, buffalo plaid and crying?  Well if you put it together all wrong, you get this …

 

sad-turkey

 

But if you put it all together just right, you get the quintessential Canadian Thanksgiving.  Turkey on the table, people walking up to the door, warm pies in hand, leaves crunching under their feet and dressed in their most comfortable, casual best.  It’s always a bit of a crap shoot as to whether the tears that come rolling down people’s faces will be tears from laughing or tears from fighting but either way, HEY, memories are being made, am I right?

So today as I kill myself trying to get myself and this house ready for the 14 or so people showing up at the door this Sunday I’d like to share with you one of my family’s most cherished Thanksgiving memories

 

I ATE SO MUCH I BARFED

It was the Thanksgiving of 1992.  At the age of 14 my (now adult) nephew was a typical teenage boy with an enthusiasm for food normally reserved for man-eating river fish.  With everyone basking in the glow of the golden turkey and trading their cracker prizes, no one noticed as he ate and ate and ate.  Nobody paid any attention as he started to wiggle in his chair, shifting his lesser needed internal organs around to make more room for his stretching stomach.

If any one of us had raised our heads from our reasonably filled plates we would have noticed that he was in the weeds with no intention of getting out.  Turkey, potatoes, cranberry sauce, stuffing, rolls, more turkey, more potatoes, are those green beans … ??  He was on his second plate before most of us had even figured out who we wanted to sit beside.  Then he started perspiring.  A lot.  By plate number 3 he was sweat basting every forkful of food his shaky hand could stab into his mouth.

But he kept eating.  His face now magnified under 14 layers of sweat.

*smack* *chew* *gurgle* *slop* *glarfleblob*

Some time after the *glarfleblob* sound came out of his nose for some reason, he got up from the dinner table, went into the bathroom and barfed.   I presume he also wiped some of the sweat off on my mother’s “good” hand towels, the ones with embroidery on them and something that might be called rick rack, because he came out refreshed.

And got to work on the pie.

He’s now the proud owner of a dinner plate that reads in big bold letters, “I ate so much I barfed”.  A gift from all of us that Christmas.

Ah, memories.  There were also the times my sister lit her gel tip fingernails on fire, my brother-in-law made DIY crackers filled with stuff he found around the house including my sister’s underwear and the year there was a knock down, tear down, end in tears and slamming doors fight over Avon versus Arbonne.

Now I’d like to hear some of your most entertaining Thanksgiving memories.  I know you have it in you.  Like a Thanksgiving dinner just waiting to come out.

Have a good weekend and I’ll see you on Tuesday!  Wish me luck.

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79 Comments

  1. Mark says:

    Have a great Thanksgiving!

  2. Ev Wilcox says:

    What- am i to be first? Yay!

  3. Ardith says:

    May you and your family and friends have a perfect Thanksgiving together. Barring that, may you have a blast creating the next great holiday story. Cheers, Ardith

  4. Ev Wilcox says:

    Well, second is pretty good too! I am sure your table will be gorgeous and the food superb. I am making a huge chicken pot pie for my spouse and our adult children this Sunday (not Thanksgiving here till November). This is going to placate the extreme hints I have been getting from them for a while now! And the first pumpkin pie of the season also. Though I bake a lot, pie crust is not my favorite thing. Oh well, it will quiet them. For awhile. Happy Thanksgiving Canadians!

  5. robert says:

    Good luck! May everything go not terribly wrong.
    What’s Arbonne? I really really want a Thanksgiving

  6. Auntiepatch says:

    My 11 y/o older brother told my mother that he could put whipped cream on his own pumpkin pie. She handed him the can, he aimed it at the pie, and squeezed the nozzle. The whipped cream hit the pie at an angle and flew up into my mother’s face. My brother took one look at her and ran out the back door. When he peeked in the window, he saw all of us, including my mother, laughing. I’ll never forget that Thanksgiving.

    • holly says:

      oh my lord…the bestest memories!

    • Karen says:

      I love that he ran out the back door, lol. ~ karen!

    • Sandy says:

      We were visiting my aunt and uncle (Mom’s brother) and were having a Thanksgiving meal that wasn’t as “home made” as my Mother would have made. The pumpkin pie was served with the whipped cream in a spray can which Mom had never used in her life. She tilted it horizontally and pressed the nozzle and sprayed her brother right in the face. We all thought it was hilarious. Fun memory.

  7. Sherry in Alaska says:

    Good luck! Sounds like you may need it.

  8. Sheila says:

    My parents were hosting Thanksgiving for me and my immediate family, as well as my three siblings’ respective families. My immediate family has/had the unpleasant habit of always being late. We arrived (late, as expected) to cheers, hollering and money changing hands. Turns out, my beloved family had arranged a sophisticated bet over the time of our arrival…complete with buy-ins, over/unders, etc., all depicted on a wall-sized chart hanging in the dining room. We haven’t been late since! 😉

    • Karen says:

      I’m not sure how Sheila, but I’m pretty sure you could somehow turn this into a money making scheme for yourself. ~ karen!

  9. Belinda says:

    Happy Thanksgiving, Karen!

  10. whitequeen96 says:

    Thanksgiving memories . . . hmmm. How about this? My mother hosted a very formal Thanksgiving for our family and some honored guests, including the monsigneur (head priest of our parish) and a few business partners of my father’s from overseas. Everything was beautiful, with silver serving platters, sparkling crystal and a gorgeous floral centerpiece. We all sat down, the turkey was carved and served and we started eating. During a lull in the conversation, we heard a strange sound from under the table. We all looked under the snow white tablecloth just in time to see our cat . . . gag up a half-digested squirrel’s head.

    Luckily, we were in Southern California and it was still warm enough in the afternoon to move the dinner party out to the patio!

  11. Ronda says:

    For many years, my family and my parents’ best friends would split Thanksgiving … one year just outside Shelburne, and the next at my parents’ cottage in Muskoka. The first year in Shelburne had my mother sitting with har scarf on her head and a cover over her glass of champagne while our hotess ran about with her vaccuum cleaner, frantically vaccuuming up cluster flies! Those things could find their way through the tiniest cracks, and would fly around the room, then land, spinning and buzzing as they passed this mortal coil. But they seemed to be in the hundreds!! Just one of many fond Thanksgivng memories!

  12. Maggie Van Sickle says:

    Sounds familiar. Have a great thanksgiving day Karen and I do wish u all the best.

  13. Teri says:

    Our turkeys are still on their hooves (or feet) and won’t go to freezer camp until Saturday – far too soon from field to plate even for this farmer gal. So we are going to have a chicken Thanksgiving (sad, but true)…. unless I can locate a local farm-raised turkey in the next two days. Sigh. I am such a wimp. My 86-year-old Mom and my eldest son and my daughter-in-love, as well as her sister, are all arriving – and get to stay overnight. So not only do I need to stash and dash an entirely overcrowded farmhouse, I also get to figure out all the gluten-free and other intolerances. Where to hide 6 dozen boxes of canning jars full of ‘ingredients’ – and the order from the local bulk food store that conveniently is coming home on Friday? The Turkey wrangling ‘daughter-from-another-mother’ is coming Friday as well, she will help with putting two TOMS into the freezer camp for Christmas and Easter…. What to do about the messy kitchen table? EEEK. I think I need a clone.

  14. Marilyn meagher says:

    Rick rack. Lol. My sister and I had several matching shorts and pop tops edged in “Rick rack”. That and the hated “pixie cut”. Thanks for the trip down memory lane. Lol

    • Jan in Waterdown says:

      Got my hair cut last week and my husband took one look and said “cute pixie cut”! I haven’t thought about pop tops in years. Thanks for the memories! And Happy Turkey Day y’all!! ? ?

      • Audrey says:

        Pop top, pedal pushers and saddle shoes – me holding my square metal lunch pail in front of our farm house — my first day of school. Thanks for reminding me.

        • Jan in Waterdown says:

          Hah! We had a fun memory around the family Thanksgiving dinner table. I reminded my younger brother that he used to call me brussel sprout to which he replied that was due to my hair cut. I still have one of those punch-out 1950’s Valentines from him on which he wrote “To Brussel Sprout from Norman C—“. Like he needed to write his surname! And no “with love” or “xo” either . . . good times lol!

  15. Danni says:

    Oh god that brings back memories!
    Back in the day, waaay back over 4 decades ago, Thanksgiving way an immense affair. We had an enclosed porch that spanned the front of the house, and it was used for food storage for the big day, bags and bags of groceries of things needing to be peeled and chopped and baked and roasted and artfully arranged on silver trays, (silver which came out before Thanksgiving and we children were put to work polishing because we were mom’s private chain gang.) Plates and bowls and platters of fruits and nuts and candy and pickles and olives everywhere and the smell of the big meal just making you insane, we would wake up to the smell of turkey, mom put the bird in before bed about midnight, at a low low temp, and the smell….. it just pulled you out of bed by the nose. But it was hours and hours before the whole meal, the turkey and gravy and stuffing and potato volcano and squash and turnip and on and on… and there was all this other STUFF that we never got to indulge in the rest of the year…
    I was about 10… I ate so many M&M’s I puked. Missed the meal. Also still can’t stand M&M’s.

  16. Shirley says:

    This is a long story. Hope you’re all sitting down …

    Many years ago we were a young married couple living in Vermont, about to celebrate a Canadian Thanksgiving with American houseguests. The home-baked apple pies were cooling on the sideboard in our country kitchen; the mashed potatoes, turnip casserole, Brussels sprouts‚ dressing, cranberries, and carved turkey had been placed on the table, and the guests had been called to dinner. I gave the gravy a final stir on the stove and had just turned to proudly inspect the beautiful scene, when suddenly there was the most horrific explosion directly behind my back. We had made sangria several weeks earlier, and without thinking had placed the leftover fruit-loaded red wine in a one-gallon glass jug on the shelf at the back of the stove. A combination of fermenting fruit and heat from the turkey cooking all day caused the glass jug to explode‚ at this worst of all possible moments, embedding glass shards in the nearby refrigerator’s steel door, etching the glass doors of my hutch across the kitchen, and covering everything in the entire 15’ by 15’ room with pulverized glass dust. Very, very sticky, red-wine-soaked, pulverized glass dust. Everything in the room — walls, floor, furniture, hostess — was covered with it. The turkey and mashed potatoes, the gravy, the apple pies — all were now inedible. Our newborn son’s changing table and every piece of his clothing, including 60 cloth diapers, was covered with the glass dust. My husband, our obliging guests and I spent the rest of evening washing and rinsing, vacuuming, and doing laundry. We were finally able to sit down to our Thanksgiving feast of canned tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches just before midnight. It wasn’t the meal we had planned, but no-one was hurt in what had the potential to be a very serious accident, and for that we did give thanks.

    • Danni says:

      Oh
      My
      God….
      You win, I can only imagine. Bet it took more than a few years before you could look back and laugh…..

    • Jan in Waterdown says:

      Oh Shirley . . , you win the best story prize. I haven’t read the rest yet but you win! I would have been bawling my eyes out!

    • Karen says:

      Also it provided you with what I’m guessing was your most memorable Thanksgiving ever! ~ karen

      • Shirley says:

        You’re right, Karen — I’m happy to say that no Thanksgiving in the intervening 47 years has ever come close. We also learned never to leave half-finished bottles of wine sitting around — just in case, you understand — and that has worked out well over the years, too. 😉

    • Elaine says:

      Oh! Oh! Oh! … that has to be the worst story I’ve ever read!! I was really getting into your story and picturing Vermont, the trees, the color, the dining table loaded with all those casseroles and the turkey and, and, and …

      I was practically drooling then … wham! The explosion!! All that work (and expense) down the drain with cheese sandwiches after even MORE work! You must have felt like crying.

      You do definitely win the “worst Thanksgiving story” prize!! Bar none!

  17. Leisa says:

    You must be psyched about the forecast – hope that you and your guests have a chance to lounge in the incredible furniture that you made!

    Happy Thanksgiving!

  18. Monique says:

    Happy Thanksgiving Karen.

  19. Deb says:

    Oooh! As always, such entertaining tales of your family gatherings! But the line that grabbed me was your reference to the TIMES (plural) that your sister set her gel nails afire!! Like once just wasn’t enough!?! ?

  20. Sandy says:

    The first home of our marriage was a run down farm house on 400 acres. The kitchen was complete with fake brick backsplash and one small wall oven. I had seen my mom roast her turkeys in those bag things so that is what i decided to do. I bagged the bird and put it on a bar pan and stuck it in the oven. I then cleaned house, set the table, and drove 30 miles to pick up my step kids at their mothers. When we returned it was nearly time for guests to arrive and went to the kitchen to check on the turkey. The bag has filled with turkey juice and then escaped the bag, ran onto the bottom of the oven, out the oven door, into the cabinets below, and finally onto the kitchen floor. As everyone was arriving I was trying to clean up the nasty mess and removing the battery from the fire alarm.

  21. Debbie from Illinois says:

    Happy Thanksgiving Karen!

  22. Jenny says:

    This was for American Thanksgiving, but I will never forget the year that our black lab stole the turkey. It was defrosting on top of the washing machine and somehow that petite black lab wrestled it down, then got it 30 feet to the doggie door (going up and down off of a landing halfway there), out the doggie door, and into the yard where she (assisted by our terrier mutt) ate almost the entire thing (and it was a good-sized turkey). My mom was PISSED and had to scrounge all over town to try and find a turkey small enough to defrost the day before Thanksgiving. The dogs basically just laid in the yard for the rest of the long weekend, basking in the sun and digesting their huge meal.

    And my husband’s family likes to tell about the time they went to a relative’s house for Thanksgiving. It was hot as blazes in the dining room from all the cooking so a well-meaning relative turned on the ceiling fan. Sadly, the host had several cats and when the ceiling fan turned on dust and cat hair went flying everywhere, all over the table of food. The turkey was safe in the kitchen, but the sides were all sprinkled. Pretty sure the cousins just shrugged and removed the top layer of the potatoes, yams, etc. while my very fastidious father-in-law pretended to eat and then went home and had PB&J.

  23. Lizzie says:

    I hope your redecorating is coming along as planned… or maybe the plan is to hand everyone a paint brush and a caulk gun as they walk in?

  24. Jennifer says:

    My best friends mother unknowingly cut her finger right before she mashed the potatoes. A few drops of blood managed its way into the fluffy white pile. We still call it (30 years later) “Trudy’s pink potato recipe”. Good luck with your dinner!

  25. Brenda says:

    Have a wonderful Happy Thanksgiving Karen – with this gorgeous weather – enjoy your family & friends and all the food and last but not least … your new, spectacular, hand-made, backyard, outdoor furniture! Another year to remember!

  26. Rose says:

    A 19 year old newlywed and the in-laws were coming. I wanted to make Mom’s fruit salad and decided to use real whipped cream….not the fake Dream Whip Mom had always used. Ended up over whipping the cream until it turned into butter. Dumped it into the fruit and proudly served my Mom’s famous fruit salad….no one said a peep about it! We just dug in and bad chunks of butter and fruit…..not pleasant!

  27. Beth says:

    During a large Thanksgiving dinner, when we were passing the fancy dishes around, my uncle, an antiques dealer in Los Angeles, was very intrigued with a particular bowl. After examining the rim, he then turned the bowl over to inspect the maker’s mark on the bottom, entirely forgetting the dish was full of food, which of course was dumped all over the table!

    • eileen says:

      oh, superb brain spasm!
      Love the stories…mine are mundane: the year the oven quit working in the middle of cooking, or when friends got one of those weird egg-shaped cooker things and we had burnt outside/raw inside turkey. Or the attempt to be “fancy” and filling the cavity with rosemary, resulting in turpentine-flavoured turkey.
      happy turkey day to all the Canadians!

  28. Donna says:

    I come from the quintessential American dysfunctional family. Both parents were wack jobs but not the dangerous kind, fortunately. My mother despised cooking, but she could clean the kitchen so that any cardiac surgeon could do open heart surgery. My father on the other hand, cook cook up a storm and everything was wonderful. Your nephew would have loved him. One Thanksgiving, years ago, when they were both relatively sane, my family and my brothers family joined them in their teeny weeny condo in Tennessee for Thanksgiving dinner. I’d say the condon was about 900 square feet if that much. Open layout, no place to hide and do anything secretive, especially with four extra adults and five extra kids. My dad had emphysema and cooking the meal wore him out, but of course no one was allowed in the four square foot kitchen with him. He retired to his room while we set the table and prepared to follow in your nephews footsteps, if I may borrow your nephew again. We couldn’t find any dressing, we looked in the turkey, in the oven, even I the trash cans outside. My SIL was getting increasingly vocal in her criticism of a Thanksgiving gone wrong. Apparently it’s illegal not to have dressing on Thanksgiving. Finally, after thirty minutes of tripping over each other like the Keystone Cops, my mom finally went and asked him. He’d run it all down the disposal. Every bit of it, and managed to wash the dish and put it away so there was no evidence of the crime. It wasn’t perfect, so it had to go. This doesn’t sound all that funny to anyone but me, my husband, and my three kids. My SIL made it hysterical though with her ranting and raving. For years my dad and I shared secret chuckles together over the Thanksgiving that wasn’t. It was the first and last time my brothers family and my family joined them for Thanksgiving. My family had many more holidays with them before they passed on but all normal, bland occasions by comparison

  29. Nancy Blue Moon says:

    Nothing funny here …except the food

  30. Melissa says:

    Good luck on Sunday, can’t wait to hear every delicious detail.
    Have the happiest of Thanksgivings Karen! Thank you for entertaining us!

  31. Flash says:

    No old stories but new one will be one less turkey losing his head. 🙂 Will celebrate our good fortune by passing it on to other sentient beings.
    happy holidays

  32. j says:

    Memory-by the time I got to the house 97 year old Auntie-dressed up in her ‘best’ clip on earrings, sitting at the table smiling, no actually beaming with joy at the size of the gathering, all the family, together. Every one else at the table was either smirking, or looking ‘caught’. Someone-loaded with a heavy application of red lipstick-had kissed Auntie on both cheeks, turning her into a clown. And they were all having a big laugh at Auntie’s expense. I gave Auntie a hug, told her how glad I was to see her, and said let me fix you up. A bit of wiping with kleenix removed the clown smears, enough to turn the the residue into what passed for blush. If Auntie knew she never said.

  33. Benjamin says:

    There was that year I was visiting home again and all the relatives were there and in-laws of my sisters and nieces and nephews, the whole crazy bunch. Well, I went in drag of course being the reigning family empress diva of the golden spike empire. All was going well until we sat down at the table and I realized the mums centerpiece, and I’m allergic to mums because they’re only for funerals not dinner tables. So I sniffed behind my lace hanky and tried to suppress a sneeze forever and it finally came out and I excused myself to go clear my nose and touch-up my eye liner; and just as I got up I let out a huge glitter-fart that blasted the whole table in gold glitter and rained down all around the guests like Gloria the good witch just tapped her magic wand on everything. So embarrassed I ran out of the house and jumped on my Rainbow unicorn and fled the scene just as my redneck brothers-in-law were about to…. oh the memories.

    • Karen says:

      Please don’t ever tell me if that story isn’t true. I prefer to be able to think back on it as a beautiful reality. ~ karen!

    • Jan in Waterdown says:

      Oh wow, Benjamin! That just conjured up the best visual ever! We are mid bathroom reno and I’ve spent the better part of today hauling plaster, drywall and tiles in a wheel barrow to a pile in the driveway and I’m pooped. Somehow your wee story tickled my funny bone . . . thanks!

      • Benjamin says:

        I love that you got a good laugh from my crazy thanksgiving story. Hope the renovations are going good. I’m so happy that you sent me a reply and I wish you well. Happy Thanksgiving Monday to all my Canadian friends. ((hugs))

  34. Wisconsin Gal says:

    My story is not as good as some, but . . my mother wanted everything perfect and homemade, including the dinner rolls. Many hands were helping with peeling, chopping, mixing, etc, and space was limited. Cookie sheets, bowls and casserole dishes were piled around, waiting to be filled, baked or served. About an hour before the meal, my mother went to get the rolls rising on a side table, covered by a kitchen towel. We all heard a screech! Someone had put a heavy bowl on top, smashing the rolls. This actually happened three years in a row, with the rolls rising in the same location, under a towel, getting squashed each year. Each time, my mother screeched in frustration, but then we all laughed and shook our hears. What I never told her or anyone else – I was the one who always ended up smashing the dinner rolls. And it was an accident.

  35. jainegayer says:

    My sister forgot to thaw the turkey and thought she could thaw it out by dropping it off the balcony of her 3rd floor apartment. I again went to my parents and begged them to tell me the truth, that I was adopted.

  36. Good luck Karen! My most memorable Thanksgiving was when I just a mere child, the entire family (all 5 kids) were gathered around the table and my sweet Lithuanian grandmother was telling us a story when right in mid sentence she let out the biggest burp with out missing a beat. She just kept right on talking. It was almost like it could have been a background sound effect to augment her story. To this day, none of us can remember the story, but the burp we’ll never forget.

  37. Emily welker says:

    My father is an exceedingly accomplished cook. And like many of them, he tends to go a bit overboard on Thanksgiving with the array of different dishes he makes. For some reason, the one dish that never makes it successfully to our plates on Thanksgiving is the bread.

    It’s been served black but still frozen in the middle because he forgot to take it out of the freezer in time, burned on top and raw on the bottom because it was forgotten while the turkey was carved, and burned black to charcoal because he accidentally turned the oven to broil. We used to think it was because he just had too many other things cooking at once, but the year I volunteered to make oatmeal bread from scratch to help him out, and it came to the table both burnt on the outside AND still raw I’m the center (don’t ask) put the lie to that.

    We finally got rolls on the table the year my best friend from high school and her mother came for Thanksgiving. They couldn’t understand why, with all the glistening array of goodies, we weirdos were all oohing and aahing over a relatively pedestrian basket of bread rolls.

    So, we explained, and as we were passing the basket, our guests chortling appreciatively, no one noticed the smoldering until my friend’s mom found herself with a flaming basket in her hand. The end of the napkin lining the basket had dropped into one of the many votive candles on the table and lit the entire damn thing on fire. Shrieking, I seized the basket, now fully engulfed, and ran to the kitchen. Bread: 5, Dad: nothing.

  38. Brandy Ballard says:

    My father successfully got stuck in the snow while hunting not one but two Thanksgivings!

  39. Jean says:

    Well, there was the year my now husband and I were dating and his single brothers and my single brothers came for dinner. Because we had so many big eaters, I knew we needed a big turkey. But I didn’t have a big enough roasting pan. So, because I didn’t have much room in the budget at the time, I purchased one of the heavy duty aluminum disposable ones. Which worked fine. Until the juices from the turkey overflowed the pan and ran into the bottom of the oven. And started on fire! The fire was successfully put out with baking soda. Oven was quickly cleaned up, reheated and turkey reinserted to roast. Supper was a little later than planned, and I was thankful all was still tasty in the end!

  40. Darla says:

    Happy Thanksgiving Karen!
    The one Thanksgiving that will stick in my mind forever is when we went to my aunts for the first and only time for Thanksgiving. She had all the dishes timed perfectly and we were carrying them to the table when the smoke alarm went off. The bread had risen too high and had huge flames coming out the top. We were all laughing so hard that it took a couple minutes to realize we needed to put the fire out.

  41. Kari says:

    Happy Thanksgiving! ???

  42. Safetydog says:

    Many years ago, my husband and I were hosting our first Thanksgiving as newlyweds. I was feeling the pressure to perform, since my mom, my in-laws, and my co-workers from Australia were coming (their first American Thanksgiving). Our kitchen sink drain had clogged two days before, and we tried everything to clear it – even something containing acid. No dice. On the big day, my mom came to help. We washed dishes in the bathtub, and my mom even rinsed the turkey in the tub. No one was to use the kitchen sink, or to talk about it. The guests arrived and we served cheese and crackers while waiting on the turkey. The poor Australians were confused, since they usually serve the cheese course after the meal – they thought they were late and had missed dinner! Everything but the turkey was ready. We all chatted awkwardly and waited on the little plastic thing to pop up on the turkey. More than an hour after it should have been done, I checked the turkey again, and tried wiggling a turkey leg – it fell off in my hand. The turkey was more than done. Turns out, the plastic thing was baked into the turkey skin, and would never pop up. Lesson learned. In a way, the Australians did experience a traditional Thanksgiving, with all the crazy mishaps. And of course, the sink miraculously drained as soon as everyone left.

  43. Barbie says:

    We have a barf story too! But it was my sons girlfriend (now wife)…..first time she came to our Thanksgiving get together. She had never SEEN so much food all in one place! As “her” family eats like normal people who knows there will be food the next day and there is no need to eat like it is the LAST DAY ON EARTH ….as we do. So she joined in on the frenzy and ate……and ate……and ate……and ate…..and ate…..and ate…..until we came to find out later that she spent the evening barfing out! She was a novice….she has since learned to eat like the experienced gluttons now. The End.

    • Kari says:

      Hahaha this is my family! There’s 9,000 desserts alone. ? Just get one bite each of the 9,000 things and you’re gonna explode.

  44. cj says:

    Here’s one….I was pregnant and my due date was Thanksgiving Day… sure enough , Thanksgiving morning, I’m in full fledge labor, family all comes up to hospital, have baby boy around 1p. So around 5p , all the family (about 15) comes back up w/coolers full of food. Nurse finally comes in with rules and we’ve broken just about everyone of them by then. (too many people, small children, alcohol, coolers,etc.) Definitely, one to remember!

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