Thanksgiving Story

In each family, there is always one person who does the Thanksgiving cooking. In my family, it’s always been my dad. But this one year, my mother wanted to help out and make the mashed potatoes. Now, let me tell you, my mom can only cook toast. Maybe cereal, if you’re lucky. So when she said this, we all stopped and laughed. But my dad, to our horror, allowed her to make the potatoes. I couldn’t help but sit right in front of her and watch. She peeled the potatoes with ease, which was a relief because if you can’t peel the potatoes then you need to step away from the table. Mom filled the pot with water and began cutting up the potatoes with no problems. Deciding that she had it under control, I spent the rest of the day doing homework until dinner was ready.

Finally, at around 4pm, my dad called us for dinner. My brother and sister and I came to the table with hungry eyes, not have eaten all day. Everything looked delicious. The turkey was roasted to perfection, the stuffing was so hot it was still steaming, the green bean casserole looked disgusting, as always to me. The last thing I saw was the mashed potatoes. They looked alright. So after so thanks to God for all we have, I grabbed the mashed potatoes and dug my spoon into them. Usually, mashed potatoes are soft. But when my spoon went in, the whole bowl of potatoes came out with it. I stopped dead and looked up at my family. It was silent for a moment and then we all cracked up laughing. Even my mom thought it was hilarious. Let’s just say, that from now on, my dad will forever do the cooking on Thanksgiving. Especially the mashed potatoes!