Shanksgiving Day.

2 Dec

I’m drunk. Does that give you any clue as to how great my Thanksgiving was? YEA YOU DON’T KNOW! *swings wildly with right. falls down. starts to cry. apologizes. mentions about being friends forever.* Anyway, You wanna hear about my Thanksgiving? Of course you do.

I wake up to the familiar smell of turkey. I love turkey. Every Thanksgiving I sleep with a turkey on my head. Another Irion Thanksgiving tradition is for my family to spend much of the night prior trying to find my turkey-helmet so they can keep me from sleeping with my head in it. The next day, I wake up and try to get my dad to put my turkey in with the one we’re already cooking.

“Come on, there’s room for both!”

“Kyle, that turkey smells rotten. You smell horrible.”

“You smell horrible.”

“Throw the turkey away or I’m going to purposely burn this meal and blame it on you.”

“But dad! You can’t!” My father reaches over to the temperature knob on the oven and slowly starts to turn it.

“Okay, okay! I’ll throw it away.”

I throw it away.

Next up on my Thanksgiving agenda is a lovely time watching the parade. The Macy’s Parade never ceases to entertain me. I love watching B-list celebrities lip sync songs I’ve never heard from Broadway shows that I’m not even sure exist. Like this, Perez Hilton singing Forever isn’t in My Lunch Box, from his upcoming musical Cut-off Overalls Make My Butt Look Happy.

After a few hours of that stuff, I usually take a shower and get ready for my family to come over. This year, though, my family is doing something a little different. This year, we’re to my grandmother’s to have Thanksgiving dinner with my extended family.

A natural showman, I love to enter rooms with a bang. I have my brother go in a few minutes before I do in order to warm up my family with a few jokes. He also sets a small boom box on the living room end table. As he walks in, I think someone sees me and waves. I act like I don’t see them, pulling out my phone and pretending to answer a call.

“Yes, Mr. President,” I say.

After the crowd is sufficiently warmed up and ready to be wowed, I give Nick the signal (Banging loudly on the front door and screaming the word “Now”). He flips on the stereo to our pre-determined entry-track, Clay Aiken’s If I Was Invisible. I turn the knob and the door and push it forward a few inches, then kick it open.

“Give some thanks for ROCK!” I scream, covered in feathers imitating a turkey’s plumage. I also have a waddle under my chin, but it just looks like a pair of fire-red testicles, so I take that off pretty soon after entering the room. Everyone claps unenthused, appeasing me in an attempt to get me to stop. A fan of any kind of applause, even the fake kind, I bow graciously and remove my costume.

Lunch was delicious. My family was delightful company. The day was beautiful and the Cowboys won. Also, dad didn’t hit anybody this year and grandpa didn’t try to convince everyone how his lawn mower was amphibious by driving it into a lake when no one was looking.

Happy Late Thanksgiving.

One Response to “Shanksgiving Day.”

  1. Paula December 2, 2009 at 9:34 pm #

    Thanksgiving back at our house 2010:)

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