A Thanksgiving Day Miracle

Growing up in Michigan there were always two constants on Thanksgiving Day:  Grandma’s biscuits in gravy and Detroit Lion’s football.

Dinner duty was always dealt to the women of the family.  The men would lounge in my grandparent’s living room, stretched out on couches, recliners, and even the floor.  Occasionally they would venture to the kitchen for snack refills {Grandma’s little wienies or bbq meatballs}. My grandmother was pretty good at timing the turkey to be done at just the right time:  half-time. As soon as the last whistle blew at the end of the second quarter, the guys would scramble to the dining room grumbling all the way {Detroits win record on Thanksgiving Day}.  The turkey would be carved and brought to the table and everyone would dig in.

In those days, when my dad, his two brothers, my grandparents, and the entire second generation of Knuppenburgs all lived in the same zip code there would be fourteen to sixteen of us crowded around the table. Half-time didn’t last long, so while there was always laughter and conversation, it didn’t last long because the Lion’s just had to be watched.

So back to the living room went the men and the ladies lingered over dinner just a bit longer before starting the clean up.

Except, that one year. 2005.

It was a Thanksgiving Day Miracle. Unlce Jeff, my dad’s younger brother and middle Knuppenburg son, did the unthinkable:  he offered to do the dishes. It must have been a sad day in Lion’s football.  Or, maybe he was sincerely wanting to help us women.  Whatever the case, I’m sure I was most thankful.  And, not stunned enough to know that I should get a picture to document the occasion.

Linking up with the Arkansas Women Bloggers for day two of the ThanksBlogging challenge.