Thanksgiving Break from Hell

You know those movies about the holidays where everything that can go wrong does go wrong? Well, that was my Thanksgiving Break of 2011, and I am here to tell the tale.

The madness started Nov. 22.  My aunt and uncle, my two girl cousins, and my grandpa arrived.  The entire day was fine until after dinner when my mother discovered that the dishwasher was broken. What could possibly be worse!  We were going to have 23 people over for Thanksgiving! My mother finally broke down and went on a rampage. I now knew how those Japanese people felt in the movies when Godzilla destroyed Tokyo. My father was forced to go with her to the store to get a new dishwasher.

She came back through the door late that night frowning. They weren’t able to get a new dishwasher installed until Sunday. My mother accepted defeat.

The next day I went to school and came home at 2:30 p.m., as usual. My other relatives arrived at 5:30 p.m. and we immediately went to Mama Wok for dinner.  My oldest brother Mike and his girlfriend, her father and her father’s girlfriend met us at the restaurant.

Now, with a family gathering of any sort in the Mirda clan we must have toys with which to play. My father proceeded to pass out little men who cling to the wall as they slowly fall downwards, sparkly star-shaped glasses and lastly the paddle ball. Jacob (my second oldest brother who is autistic) had a field day with them! He flung all the sticky men to the walls and, of course, started to throw them at my head. The sticky men got tangled in my hair and I looked a mess!  What made my day was when the manager of the restaurant and some of the employees joined the Mirda clan in the throwing of the sticky men!

Mike’s girlfriend’s family stared at this phenomenon. They had no idea what was going on. To be honest, we probably looked like a bunch of deranged animals, but no one in the Mirda clan cared. “WE ARE SUPERIOR,” our German heritage runs constantly through all of our minds.

At 10:30 p.m., my mom went to prepare the turkey for the next day. All I could smell was rotten eggs combined with skunk. I heard a blood-curdling shriek from my mother. “The turkey’s rotten!”  Her eyes were wild, looking every which-way in panic. She looked like she was going to throw-up; we all looked like we were going to throw-up.  Everyone took turns smelling the turkey to confirm that it was rotten. My father denied that it was rancid; in fact, he said that the smell of rotten eggs came from the sulfur used to preserve it. Yes, my father would’ve served 23 people rotten turkey rather than admit it was rotten. Madness! What store would still have turkeys the night before Thanksgiving and still be open so late? None other than the infamous Wegmans. So they rushed off! They came back later that night with a one hundred-frickin’-dollar free-range, organic turkey. Those were the only turkeys they had left, of course…

Thanksgiving Day went surprisingly well.  All 23 people were well fed and everyone was happy.  The one hundred dollar, free-range, organic turkey was succulent and delicious. It was a pretty good Thanksgiving.

This is what an average week is like for the Mirda clan. We may be nuts, but everybody else is a squirrel, and squirrels love nuts.

break, family, thanksgiving Extras, Issue 4, Online, Views