I’m thinking about it.
On the bitter day of Thanksgiving , both sides of my immeasurable family came to visit. Both side were rarely seen together since we were so large that the pleasure of seeing all of the at once made me ecstatic. People in pastel colors brought scrumptious foods that wafted through the air making the house smell like thanksgiving. Cousin I haven't seen in ages came in frilly dresses and the boy's dressed up in button down shirts and nice blue jeans. My grandparent from the Brookhart side came with amazing pudding pie. I could smell the creamy homemade milk chocolate pudding. I tried to sneak a lick but grandma Starr ruffled my short brown hair "not before the feast." I frowned and walked to play with the kids. In the kitchen the adults hugged and exchanged pleasantries with each other and caught up.
The kitchen timer went off as loud as a horn on a boat making us kids jump slightly. Then went back to being too distracted to notice the commotion of the table being sat until, we caught a whiff of something that smelt of a sweet aroma savory food and we ran to the table set for the festive meal. We climb in the chairs the towered us then noticed that something was not right. The fine china was set out with the gold utensils neatly on the table. Then we looked to our right to see our table set up with the unbreakable colorful plastic plates and the stainless steel forks and spoons that made us feel grown up and fancy. We scurried down like mice, giggling and settling into our soft cushioned chairs with the popular Disney character of our generation on them. Our parents brought us plate piled high with the delicious mountain of thanksgiving food that was helped made by all members of the gathering. We got excited and almost dug in before saying grace. We froze and dropped our heads and repeated grandpa Brookhart as he said grace thanking god for not only our food but for this amazing family. When we all finished in harmony with amen we dug...