One Thanksgiving, though, really stands out. My sister, who was pregnant at the time, got into a heated argument with the turkey mascot at the finish line. She was hormonal and protective, and when the mascot wasn’t being particularly friendly with the kids, she let him know—loudly, telling him to "fuck off" in front of everyone! In hindsight, we laugh about it, but I think she was grappling with more than just a bad mascot experience. She was thinking about the world her newborn would be entering - and how to protect children in an unpredictable and often unkind world.
After the Turkey Trot and the smoker works its magic, we settle in for the rest of the day. There’s always a cheese plate on the table, football on the TV, and a general air of relaxation. It’s the kind of day where nothing is forced—no need for perfect decorations or piles of presents, just food and family.