November 18, 2014

By Benjamin Brown

I like Thanksgiving, but I’m not crazy about it. It’s a holiday of extremes. The food is hot, but the weather is cold. The break is nice, but it’s spent studying for finals. And of course, there is the most polarizing aspect of Thanksgiving — the family.

The first day you come home, you’re welcomed like a war hero. You eat hot, home-cooked meals, relax on the couch and let the stresses of college melt away. But the shine wears off pretty quickly. Your parents snap back to reality and remember that they actually prefer when you’re not there. They start asking questions like, “Why you aren’t working on homework?” Or, “Shouldn’t you be studying?” And, “Why haven’t you showered yet?”

But still, this is all nothing compared to the world’s most awkward holiday dinner. On that Thursday morning, everyone travels to the most centrally located relative’s house with their designated dish.

The last time you saw everyone was at Christmas. It has been 11 months, and you still have nothing to talk about. Your relatives will ask you questions like, “So how are you liking college?” Oh, it’s OK. I am in crippling debt, and I think I should switch majors, but I can’t afford to do that at this point. I also have a five-page paper due for my required lab science class that I haven’t even started yet. But you’ll just reply, “It’s good.”

You won’t really be able to have a conversation with your aunts or uncles because they keep making comments about how much older you look and how much you’ve grown. I haven’t grown since eighth grade and my grandma keeps telling me how much taller I’m getting. I keep telling her that I’m not growing; she is shrinking. That may sound a little harsh, but she doesn’t wear her hearing aids, so she can’t hear me.

All of your cousins are there, but you don’t have anything in common with any of them. Rick’s alternative-metal band, Quatro Mud Flap, is doing really well. They are set to open for Courtney Love’s cousin’s band in December, so they’ve got that going for them. Jenn is still managing a CVS Pharmacy. Bill has inexplicably developed a Southern accent and won’t take his cowboy boots off. Thomas, who is either five or six, doesn’t understand that this is not Christmas and won’t stop running around looking for presents. And Stacey is pregnant … again.

After only four hours of small talk, it’s time to eat. Everyone grabs a plate and silverware and gets in a single-file line. You are strangely at peace because it’s actually a lot like the dining halls. You finally get to the front of the line only to find that there was some sort of miscommunication about who was bringing what for dinner. There are seven casseroles, but no turkey. At least there is some cornbread. You’ll just fill up on that.

Before you know it, break is over. It was nice seeing family, and great to see your friends. You were even able to get a little bit of homework done. It’s just too bad there wasn’t more time for your two favorite activities — eating and not moving.