November 28, 2002
Adding to the simplicity of the celebration is the fact that if we have an actual Thanksgiving tradition, it's a rather odd one. Every year for about ten years, up until I entered junion high, we would take a two-week holiday down to my grandparents' place in Florida, usually with a Disney trip as well. We would leave on Thanksgiving morning, so that our Thanksgiving feast was held in a Roy Rogers off of I-95, in Virginia or something. So while other families can think back on feasts of sumptuous turkeys and succulent pumpkin pies, my Thanksgiving memories usually involve my Mom maiking a salad from the Fixins' Bar, with a dressing of ketchup, mayo, and a dash of horseradish sauce.
Still, a tradition is a tradition, so I'll be picking up a three-piece w/biscuit from the Turnpike rest stop Roy Rogers on my way home. I have to admit to being a bit jealous of Mr. Fat Guy's massive spread, or even better, a feast served by a cute little monkey.
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