November 23, 2011 by Kristen
Holidays are a time of warmth, love, giving, and—
My family is very close and gets along great. That being said, every year on Thanksgiving, we have…The Family Fight. I don’t know what exactly starts it, but it has become a tradition of sorts. I’ve broken down the typical Thanksgiving day to pin-point exactly where things go wrong.
1. Thanksgiving morning. All is moderately A-ok on the home front. I awaken at my own convenience and make my way downstairs to watch the Thanksgiving parade. My parents have already been up for hours at this point, because apparently the turkey had to be put in the oven at 4am. I know nothing about cooking turkeys and will make for a less-than-ideal wife. I blissfully plop myself down in front of the television. Unaware, seeds of family discord have been sown.
2. My siblings join me as my parents continue to slave away in the kitchen. We offer our services as samplers, taking spoonfuls of stuffing and mashed potatoes from the crock-pots without permission. We kindly offer constructive ways to improve the dish before actual serving time. Resentment toward food-snatching fuels the resentment toward laziness.
3. Since the parade is over, it’s time for me to carry on with my routine. I head to the basement to get in a crucial Thanksgiving day workout. I cannot hear the thunderous, angry footsteps upstairs over the sound of the treadmill. I remain blissfully unaware of the tension that’s building.
4. After taking a shower and dolling myself up for the day, I timidly make my way downstairs, trying to remain out of sight. With the help of my sister, we iron the tablecloths and set the table. The air is thick with cinnamon and consternation…I field off the disgruntled glares that are thrown like gauntlets in my direction. Avoiding conflict, I retreat to my brother’s room.
5. My brother and I hide from the friction we brought upon ourselves. We usually watch youtube videos. It’s actually a wonderful time of bonding. In a less-than-pleasant pitch, we hear our names bellowed from below.
6. *Family Fight*
7. Everyone is disgruntled now. We shuffle around the kitchen, avoiding eye contact. Eventually, someone dares to crack a smile and whispers of, “It’s the family fight!” circulate between the siblings. The parentals catch wind of this talk and feign momentary indignation, but eventually… Grandparents arrive. Tension broken. Family fight forgotten.
8. Dinner over. I banish myself to the kitchen for KP duty. Every year without fail, I wash all the Thanksgiving dishes. (Yeah, who’s lazy now?) Turkey comas commence as we all sit down together to watch a Christmas movie. Jokes about our family fight ensue.
This is my Thanksgiving. Since my family isn’t hosting dinner this year, I think we may miss out on the family fight tradition. Shame. But oh how I love every bit of this wacky family God has blessed me with.
Does anyone else have a bizzare-o family tradition?