Katie Demetriades Assignment 14: Flying Turkeys

Just after reading the little description of the "stock image" of Thanksgiving in the prompt, I realized our family practices a "stock image" Thanksgiving. We have the fancy table, a nice bird, and lots of side dishes that takes us several weeks to get through. But they're things my family and I take pride in. Of those things, I mainly help with the table. The basis of our décor is some sort of table cloth. There are two table cloths we use that alternate each year, a red one and a white gold one. We use candles (of course they match the table cloth!) as a center piece. As of last year, we've also used this cube thing that has lights and fall like decorations glued to the top as a part of our center piece. We have the fine china saved for special occasions, originally belonging to my great-grandmother. Each dish is white with real gold trims. My mom tells me some day they'll be mine, but I still don't feel like I'm responsible enough to hold my own plate, let alone take care of all the dishes!

Our Thanksgiving used to be pretty big. Anywhere between 8-15 people would be eating at our house each year. But as time goes on, families change. Now our Thanksgiving is much smaller. It consists of my parents, my grandparents of my dad's side, and my brother. I guess you can include the dog in that group, too. He may not have a place at the table or get to eat off of a fancy place, but he definitely makes his presence known!

I have neutral feelings towards Thanksgiving. I don't adore it, but I don't abhor it (see what I did there!!!!!!). I enjoy being out of school, of course. And who doesn't enjoy a good meal? But as far as getting "so excited to be with family," that's not me. I love my family, and I'm thankful to have them every day. I don't need a whole day to dedicate my gratitude to them.

Most of our Thanksgivings have been uneventful, but this year's dinner provided a good laugh. My Yiayia (it's Greek for grandma) is the clumsiest person I know, and she's always knocking something over or spilling something on her shirt. And my Papou (Greek for grandpa, get the picture?) absolutely hates it when she does stuff like that. But on Thanksgiving, the tables turned. We had just made a toast, when he spilt his red wine all over the place. And my Yiayia wasn't afraid to rub it in his face. Her laughter made me bust up in tears! Let's just say she won't let him forget it, just like how he never lets her forget when she makes a mistake.