Thanksgiving
Being a picky eater, I’ve never enjoyed Thanksgiving dinner....and more and more often, Thanksgiving as a whole.
When I was a kid, the table would be filled with all sorts of Thanksgiving food and I’d be eating a bowl of cereal. As time passed, special concessions weren’t made for me anymore (rightly so!) and I had to eat what was available.
My Thanksgiving dinner, since I was about 12 or so, has been dinner rolls. Maybe a small slice of turkey (think Post-It note size). Maybe a couple spoonfuls of corn.
And every year, it’s like it’s some sort of surprise.
“Is that all you’re going to eat?”
“Yep.”
“That’s it????”
“It’s fine.”
“But there’s stuffing and sweet potatoes and gravy and green beans and turkey and beets and cranberry sauce…”
“Nope, this roll is all I need.”
“I’ve never heard of someone eating rolls for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Sure you have. Every year for the last 15 this is what I’ve eaten.”
And the rest of the day, it’s more of the same.
“You sure you don’t want any (insert food item here)?”
“Nope, I’m good thanks.”
It just keeps going until I get upset and say something like, “Look…if I wanted (food item), I’d have eaten it. I don’t want any. Stop asking me about it, ok?”
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t go hungry.”
“I’m 38 years old. I don’t need anyone to make sure that I eat. I don’t need to be reminded that there’s food here. I’m not going to leave the house and say ‘but nobody told me there was…whatever’. It’s Thanksgiving. There’s food here. I get it. I’ve eaten what I want, so just let it go.”
That conversation, in some form or other, happens. Every. Single. Year.
I don’t like Thanksgiving.