When I think of Thanksgiving I think of a house full of people, awkward dinner conversations, and a day long event of cooking and eating. For my family, Thanksgiving isn't exactly like this. We have a small family and no one is confident enough in their cooking skills to tackle Thanksgiving dishes. We have been fortunate enough to go to a club ever year where they cook your turkey and all the sides for you. This year, to my surprise, my mother announced we would be having Thanksgiving at home. I was so excited! I pictured the turkey cooking in the oven for hours, the house smelling great, and being in the kitchen all day. This excitement was short lived. Our neighbors down the street happened to be having a small Thanksgiving dinner as well. My neighbors also happen to be very good entertainers and cooks and my mom had the genius idea of combining forces. So what did we make for Thanksgiving? Mac and cheese. Everything else was provided by the other family. It was a great meal and I left completely stuffed. But still, things felt off. I came home to a house that didn't smell like Thanksgiving nor was my fridge full of leftovers. My family spent the morning exercising and eating very little to prepare their stomachs for the big meal ahead. Thanksgiving doesn't mean much here and the more I think about it the more I wonder whether this is because my family doesn't really engage in all the Thanksgiving cooking. Everyone was so busy playing tennis or going for walks that no one even stayed in to watch the Macy's Day Parade! Though I left my neighbors house with a full stomach I couldn't help but have some empty feelings.
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