To kick things off, I’m going to share an almost entirely true story about my family at Thanksgiving. Names have been changed to protect my dear relatives.
November 25, 2004—The Thankful Leaf
My family is a serious group. Almost all of them are doctors, lawyers, or finance professionals. Because of their serious jobs, they tend to have very serious conversations. There’s lots of talk about mergers and interests rates, Medicare and malpractice insurance, torts and depositions…
I have absolutely no frame of reference with which to join into any of these conversations, so over the years I’ve mastered appearing interested while actually having private day-dreams.
My Uncle Frank, on the other hand, has been unable to adopt this strategy. He makes jokes constantly (nobody laughs), starts conversations about racy things (which he carries on alone), and generally doesn’t fit in with the accepted tone of our dinners.
Even though we are a professional family, each year my sentimental aunt cuts leaves out of multi-colored construction paper and asks us to write what we are thankful for. Almost all of our entries have something to do with the undying love and support of family, the success of respective children in their educational endeavors, and overall happiness and well-being.
Uncle Frank thought otherwise this year. During the leaf-writing time, he planted himself next to my youngest cousin, Sally, and assisted her with the leaf. The time came to read them aloud. One by one each of us stood up, and shared with the family.
“My son John’s early acceptance into law school,” Uncle George said proudly.
“The fact that everyone got here safely to share this lovely dinner,” said Aunt Susan.
And around we went. When it came time for Sally to read her leaf, she boldly shot up from her chair, cleared her throat, and enunciated herself with stellar clarity: “I am most thankful for the agreeable consistency of my morning bowel movements!”
There was a pause. Uncle Frank’s was trying not to burst out laughing. I wanted to maintain my face of concentration. Then, my grandfather let out a chuckle, and Sally’s father and mother, and before I knew it, the entire table was in an uproar, slapping each other’s backs and pounding the table. It was the most I’d ever heard my family laugh. Sally was beaming. Uncle Frank’s joke was a little inappropriate, but we all laughed together and I will always be thankful for that memory.
Ok, that’s it! Hope it stirred some ideas around. Feel free to share anything that comes to mind, and have a funny Thanksgiving!-- Brian (the new WEbook intern)
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