| General Non-Fiction posted March 1, 2022 |
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A Thanksgiving surprise
The uninvited guests
by Mary Vigasin
I have never been to a pajama party. Unless I count the time, my cousins stayed at our apartment, but it was not a party, and I do not think you can count jeans and corduroy pants as pajamas.
Six weeks after my mother died, my Aunt Tangie told my father he had to have a Thanksgiving for us kids. Dad said no, he just did not want to celebrate. Aunt Tangie was a take-charge kind of lady and was not willing to take no for an answer.
The day before Thanksgiving and without warning, she showed up with Uncle Lou and their six children. (Numbers 7,8, and 9 were still a twinkle in their dad's eye.) They drove 7 hours from their farm in Upstate New York to make our Thanksgiving dinner. A precooked 20 lb. turkey made the trip with them.
Now a public housing apartment built during WWII had small rooms, and it was crowded with six of us living here. Now there were fourteen people altogether for the weekend! While the adults took over the bedrooms to sleep, the New York 6 and the Cambridge 3, my brother John, myself, and sister Cathy took space on the now crowded living room floor using rolled-up jackets and stuffed animals for pillows.
Like one of those cartoon characters walking on their toes, you had to try to go between bodies to try to make it to the bathroom. How successful on how you reached the bathroom depends on how many ouches, yelps, and "Gad dammit" you heard.
My brother John judging from the yells coming from the floor, was the least successful.
The following day, Nana cooked potatoes, carrots, squash, and baked pies for dessert. We lined up with our paper plates to be served.
Aunt Tangie cut into the turkey and found we had added guests for dinner; the turkey cavity was full of worms.
We tossed the turkey down the incinerator.
The New York farm kids did not mind having only vegetables for Thanksgiving as there was a promise of homemade apple pie for dessert. A bottle or two of beer went well with squash and potatoes for my dad, aunt, and uncle.
As for me, I opened a can of my favorite food: Franco American Spaghetti; Served between two white slices of bread was just heaven. A dish that I would prefer over any turkey with or without worms.
True Family Story writing prompt entry
I have never been to a pajama party. Unless I count the time, my cousins stayed at our apartment, but it was not a party, and I do not think you can count jeans and corduroy pants as pajamas.
Six weeks after my mother died, my Aunt Tangie told my father he had to have a Thanksgiving for us kids. Dad said no, he just did not want to celebrate. Aunt Tangie was a take-charge kind of lady and was not willing to take no for an answer.
The day before Thanksgiving and without warning, she showed up with Uncle Lou and their six children. (Numbers 7,8, and 9 were still a twinkle in their dad's eye.) They drove 7 hours from their farm in Upstate New York to make our Thanksgiving dinner. A precooked 20 lb. turkey made the trip with them.
Now a public housing apartment built during WWII had small rooms, and it was crowded with six of us living here. Now there were fourteen people altogether for the weekend! While the adults took over the bedrooms to sleep, the New York 6 and the Cambridge 3, my brother John, myself, and sister Cathy took space on the now crowded living room floor using rolled-up jackets and stuffed animals for pillows.
Like one of those cartoon characters walking on their toes, you had to try to go between bodies to try to make it to the bathroom. How successful on how you reached the bathroom depends on how many ouches, yelps, and "Gad dammit" you heard.
My brother John judging from the yells coming from the floor, was the least successful.
The following day, Nana cooked potatoes, carrots, squash, and baked pies for dessert. We lined up with our paper plates to be served.
Aunt Tangie cut into the turkey and found we had added guests for dinner; the turkey cavity was full of worms.
We tossed the turkey down the incinerator.
The New York farm kids did not mind having only vegetables for Thanksgiving as there was a promise of homemade apple pie for dessert. A bottle or two of beer went well with squash and potatoes for my dad, aunt, and uncle.
As for me, I opened a can of my favorite food: Franco American Spaghetti; Served between two white slices of bread was just heaven. A dish that I would prefer over any turkey with or without worms.
Six weeks after my mother died, my Aunt Tangie told my father he had to have a Thanksgiving for us kids. Dad said no, he just did not want to celebrate. Aunt Tangie was a take-charge kind of lady and was not willing to take no for an answer.
The day before Thanksgiving and without warning, she showed up with Uncle Lou and their six children. (Numbers 7,8, and 9 were still a twinkle in their dad's eye.) They drove 7 hours from their farm in Upstate New York to make our Thanksgiving dinner. A precooked 20 lb. turkey made the trip with them.
Now a public housing apartment built during WWII had small rooms, and it was crowded with six of us living here. Now there were fourteen people altogether for the weekend! While the adults took over the bedrooms to sleep, the New York 6 and the Cambridge 3, my brother John, myself, and sister Cathy took space on the now crowded living room floor using rolled-up jackets and stuffed animals for pillows.
Like one of those cartoon characters walking on their toes, you had to try to go between bodies to try to make it to the bathroom. How successful on how you reached the bathroom depends on how many ouches, yelps, and "Gad dammit" you heard.
My brother John judging from the yells coming from the floor, was the least successful.
The following day, Nana cooked potatoes, carrots, squash, and baked pies for dessert. We lined up with our paper plates to be served.
Aunt Tangie cut into the turkey and found we had added guests for dinner; the turkey cavity was full of worms.
We tossed the turkey down the incinerator.
The New York farm kids did not mind having only vegetables for Thanksgiving as there was a promise of homemade apple pie for dessert. A bottle or two of beer went well with squash and potatoes for my dad, aunt, and uncle.
As for me, I opened a can of my favorite food: Franco American Spaghetti; Served between two white slices of bread was just heaven. A dish that I would prefer over any turkey with or without worms.
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Writing Prompt Story MUST include You and a Sibling(s) Word count 400 minimum/450 maximum No vulgar words, profanity, or sex/sexual terms/sexual innuendos implied or hinted in dialogue/scenes No satire No war stories or Dear John letters No deathbed stories in hospital, home, or hospice care stories |
 Recognized |
#48 March 2022 |
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