In article <Grant-me-that-1411094@Grant.Grant>, +Grant
<+Grant@grant.grant> wrote:
> A Thanksgiving I Don't Ever Want to Forget
>
>
> This happened when I was 12, but I remember it like it was yesterday.
> Well, it was a good year. LOL
>
> We lived in a big country house that had a very big eat-in kitchen, so
> we did. Eat in it. But ultra large family gatherings, like as happened
> at Thanksgiving, filled our home to overflowing. Naturally we managed,
> but sometimes things didn't turn out as well as planned. Actually, from
> us kids' point of view, sometimes better than planned. MUCH better.
> Like as when Dad got too involved.
>
> One such holiday, we were mostly all seated at the big extended table,
> but us kids were relegated to two folding card tables at one end of the
> big table. That big table was so crowded with fixings and elbows and
> things, Dad decided to carve the very big Thanksgiving bird on our
> kids' table. Maybe he didn't want to make his usual mess on the fancy
> tablecloth. Anyway, that's where he dumped it, near the side that was
> next to the main table. Just as he was beginning his first very
> energetic turkey slicing attempt, the two legs under that side of the
> card table chose that moment to collapse in protest, sending the turkey
> rolling under the big table, leaving Dad just standing there looking
> lost. Then, from us kids' point of view, things got even better.
>
> Spot, our old black and white tomcat, had this thing about feet. He
> liked them a lot. He tried to trip us when we walked rubbing against
> them, and licked our feet when he could get at them, and did all the
> other feet activities he could think of. There were a great many feet,
> all kinds of feet, under the big Thanksgiving table, so that's where he
> had parked himself, right in the middle of toe city, never expecting in
> his wildest feline dreams he would be anything but safe from being
> attacked by a gigantic dead bird at least 5 times his size. To say he
> was surprised, would be a gigantic understatement! Not sticking around
> one split second, he streaked out of there, but he didn't get as far as
> he probably intended.
>
> Great Aunt Mabel had a very long dress on. Up it went the severely
> startled Spot. Mabel shrieked and tried to back away, but she went over
> backward in her chair. That would have pretty much ended things right
> there, if she hadn't grabbed hold of the tablecloth as a lifeline, and
> took it, and most of what was on it, crashing to the floor on top of
> her. Except for the full gravy boat. Mom reacted fast and tried to save
> it. Well, she did a little, all over herself.
>
> Us kids recovered first, and had fits of hysterical laughter. I don't
> think that helped any. Dad got over his paralysis and rushed over to
> help Mom, and almost stabbed and sliced her with the big carving set he
> was still holding. She avoided him like a star running back, and told
> him to "Put those things down and go help Mabel". He did that by
> cowardly asking Great Uncle Hank to pull Spot, who was still struggling
> to get away, out from under his wife's dress. I think Dad didn't want
> to risk getting scratched. And slapped.
>
> Hank got scratched, and slapped, and escorted Mabel to one of the guest
> bedrooms to rest. Some of us kids were conscripted into the cleanup
> crew, and had more fun than usual in such a job. The floor wasn't quite
> as slippery as we made it out to be. When we got to the turkey, Dad
> offered to rinse it off and resume carving it for our dinner. Mom said
> "Absolutely not, we can't eat that!", so he put it out of the way on
> the counter. Even after all that mess, we still had more than enough
> food for a very good Thanksgiving dinner, and a memorable one, to say
> the least. As for that runaway turkey, well, it didn't get far. We had
>
> We let Spot have some of the turkey. Well, he asked. Revenge, maybe?
> Anyhow, he never went back under the table as long as he lived. He
> passed away 2 years later in his sleep. On my feet. Dreaming of the
> attacking turkey that, in the end, didn't get away. Possibly. I like to
> think so.
>
>
> ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
>
>
> I know it could have been written better, but I'm not a pro at this. I
> hope you liked it, and may all your future Thanksgivings be as fun for
> you as this one was for me, if not in exactly the same way. LOL
I think you wrote well. I liked the "crowded with fixings and elbows and
things". Nice touch. Gives a great family home picture in very few
words. Sets the table for us, so to speak. I can just imagine "star
running back" scene. LOL
I liked how you paragraphed it. It made a short story more eventful and
engaging. I suspect that was the only way you could introduce "Spot"
without giving that situation away too soon.
The second to last paragraph had an ending punch line that I think
didn't work as well as you wanted it to. Any ideas about that?
I don't know if your last paragraph was necessary to the story, but I'm
not sure I would want to remove it. A memorial to Spot, perhaps?
Thank you for your story. I hope you post some more. I'll try to
organize what I have, after I get more organs, and post something soon.
Mover
|
|