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Dear Thanksgiving Dinner,
I’ve waited for you anxiously since the day we ran out of leftovers last year. Since then, you’ve left an empty feeling in my unsatisfied stomach. Nothing compares to the taste of the fall season that you bring to the table. Christmas Dinner has tried to replace you in the past, and while it does come in second best, you are unbeatable. The chubby little kid within me rejoices with memories of our past encounters.
To the green beans: I can’t say I’m particularly excited about you, but dinner would not be complete without you sitting on the table, bland in comparison to the array of masterpieces that cover the tablecloth. Although you are a vegetable, you are dependable, and a constant reminder of how we’re all a step closer to heart attacks after this momentous event. You’re like the one depressing uncle that sits at the corner of the table and talks about how badly everything’s going in his life, but that’s okay, because you remind us all of the beauty of optimism, and push us to go for a second serving of sweet potatoes instead.
Too often I have dreamt about your aroma, my dearest sweet potatoes. My taste buds celebrate your fiber-y consistency and cinnamon-y tang. My mouth waters with the ever-fading memory of what you were, because no matter how many times you have taunted me during fall dinners, it is only at Thanksgiving Dinner that you reach your purest and most refined form. I welcome you with open arms and open taste buds, in all three versions of you that my mother must prepare in order to appease all of my relatives’ demands.
As for the salty mashed potatoes: you keep re-appearing in my mind. Your soft, smooth, creamy richness floods my thoughts as Thursday approaches. And whether you are loaded with bacon and cheese or simply topped with butter this year, I won’t mind. I’ll accept you as you are, so long as we meet again on the dinner table.
Oh, stuffing--the best supporting actor in the scene. Thanksgiving would not be complete without you there as a delicious side dish. You have always been a mystery to me--I mean yes, you are essentially just bread, but I’m convinced that there’s also a touch of magic that goes into your preparation, because to me, you’re much more than that; you’re what I’ve anxiously anticipated all fall. It simply wouldn’t be Thanksgiving Dinner without you.
And finally, the star of the show, the centerpiece of this much-awaited work of art, is the turkey. Delicious turkey, part of me gets jealous of the toasty glow you have that I lost months ago, but I know it will all be okay once I meet again with your juicy crispness. You are the reason we all feast on this day. The very core of Thanksgiving, you bring harmony to our taste buds and our hearts.
Oh, Thanksgiving Dinner, you’ll make up for the awkward encounters with the uncles where I’ll be forced to talk about college, and all the uncomfortable silences that will surely make a guest appearance during the interrogation on what I plan to do with my life. And when I’m sick to my stomach from stuffing my face, I’ll have no regrets, because I only get to see you once a year.
Can’t wait until Thursday!
Your Super Fan