I went to my cousin's house for Thanksgiving along with 26 other people. When your family is as gigantic as mine, it's hard having the entire family get together without renting a restaurant or a stadium. An intimate gathering of thirty people is just about a third of my mom's brothers and sisters and their kids.
First of all, the decorations were marvelous.
I can just imagine the instructions given for this one. "Kids, draw a Thanksgiving poster." Will do!
My three year old cousin Timmy's Indian name is apparently Running Dinosaur. I had absolutely no idea he was a closet Creationist. Timmy also took our friend Tesh on a tour of his house, opened the door to his room and exclaimed, "Behold!" Running Dinosaur is quite the character.
Nothing like a child's drawing of the poultry you're about to consume begging you to perhaps reconsider your dinner menu.
Please note the dead and frowning turkey on the table. Thanksgiving is not a fun holiday for turkeys, but it does seem like they're fun to draw.
They really were ridiculously well-behaved. When I was a kid, my cousins and I would mix concoctions out of two-liter bottles of pop in an effort to make each other throw up. We would hit each other with wiffle bats, break ceiling fans and purposely throw sand in each other's eyes. At one memorable family wedding, my cousin Tim, the host of this Thanksgiving celebration, downed a record 27 kiddie cocktails and celebrated by vomiting all over his parents' Chevy on the way home. We were terrible, terrible children, and my cousins are lucky that their own offspring have magically turned out angelic and sweet and perfect. (Admittedly I may be a teeny bit biased)
All in all, it was a wonderful loud, boisterous, happy day, especially if you weren't a turkey. Well, who am I kidding, every single person in my family is a turkey, but we still enjoyed ourselves.