Cranberry Sauce Should Never Come from a Can.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving here in the States. It's a holiday commonly associated with turkeys and overeating. It's suppose to be a day of counting your blessings, but with the rise of consumerism, sometimes that message gets lost in all the advertisements for Black Friday (google it).


I love Thanksgiving because I see my family. It's cheesy, but I love it. Every Thanksgiving is essentially the same. We load up the car and haul over to my cousin's house. Her mom makes a salad while my uncle critiques the cooking process from the living room couch, beer in hand. My dad slaves over the oven for hours and only answers direct questions related to food or football. My hormonal teenage cousin ignores all of us and texts on her cellphone. I socialize with everyone and create a plan on how to avoid eating too much (plan fails every year). My sister can be found eyeing the clock every five minutes, counting down the time till we leave. My mother flits around the house documenting each moment with her camera and forces anyone breathing to smile and "ACT HAPPY!". My older cousin will not make an appearance till she  has her makeup on and has been warned that the food is hitting the table in 5 minutes whether she's wearing mascara or not. We sit and eat and talk. Later we fight over leftovers since both my twiggy cousins can out-eat grown men. And that is why I love this Holiday. It's not glamorous or chic or exciting, it's just my family.