My First Thanksgiving

For my first Thanksgiving as host, I bought the biggest turkey they had in the store. I needed it because my family was full of big eaters. There were only six of us, but I wasn’t sure the thirty-pound turkey would be enough. You want to know what’s really funny, though? None of us was overweight.

Not that we were healthy, mind you. No, most of us had been told we needed to exercise more, stop smoking and drinking, and watch our cholesterol. That’s why I got an extra big turkey. It was low fat so I thought it would be good for us even if we ate too much.

It turned out I was the only one listening to the doctor. Everyone else was really disappointed when I presented turkey, a vegetable tray, and sugar free ice cream for the meal. 

“What the hell is this?” My father demanded. “It’s Thanksgiving. Where’s the pecan pie? The stuffing and rolls?”

“I decided to make a healthier version, Dad.”

“Why would you do that?” Mom asked. “Who wants a healthy Thanksgiving meal?”

“We may not want it,” I told them, “but we need it. All of our doctor’s told us to eat better or we’d be on pills soon. None of you want that do you?”

They all grumbled and shook their heads, which was as good as I would get. 

We said the blessing and then everyone loaded their plates. I will give them credit, they tried everything before complaining again. 

“This taste like cardboard,” dad said of the turkey. 

“That’s because I didn’t lather it in butter or sugar like usual,” I informed him.

“This rabbit food isn’t going to fill me up,” my brother said after eating a carrot stick off the vegetable tray. 

“Your heart will thank you,” I replied. 

I didn’t tell them, but I didn’t like the food either. It seemed that leaving the fat and salt out of food made a big difference to the way it tasted. Still, I was determined we were going to eat healthy. 

Until I tried the sugar free ice cream.

Have you ever tried that stuff? Well, don’t. It’s nasty. I promise I almost gagged it was so bad. 

Everyone looked at me and tried to hide their smiles, but it was impossible. They were enjoying my predicament too much. Soon, they were all laughing out loud and asking me if I still thought Thanksgiving should be healthy. 

Finally, I got rid of the awful taste of the ice cream by eating a mouthful of turkey, but the turkey was so dry that it choked me going down. 

After my dad did beat my back half to death, the turkey came back up, along with the ice cream, unfortunately. 

I’d had enough. To hell with eating healthy on Thanksgiving. We could all start dieting the next day. 

I grabbed my coat and everyone else followed. We found the nearest McDonald’s and all upsized everything. The cashier asked us why we were there and not at home eating Thanksgiving dinner. 

I told her about the dry turkey, raw veggies, and the nasty sugar free ice cream. She looked like she was going to be sick by the time I finished. I’m sure she wouldn’t ask any more customers why they were there instead of at home. 

We gulped down our meals and went back for dessert. We were just finishing up when my grandmother called from Ohio. She couldn’t believe it when James told her where we were. I heard him go into the same long story I had about our Thanksgiving dinner, laughing as he explained in great detail about me throwing up, before he told her, “And that's why we all ate hamburgers.”