It was the Monday after Thanksgiving. Kristy’s teacher began class by asking each student how their holiday was. Kristy was excited to share her story.
Finally, Kristy’s teacher called on her. “Kristy, would you share how your holiday was?” Kristy gave a big smile. “I would love to,” she said. She stood up. “It was the best Thanksgiving ever! It went like this,” Kristy said. She tucked her hands behind her back and began her story.
“First, I helped my mom bake the pumpkin pie. But then we were out of cinnamon. All the stores were closed, so we couldn’t go get more. So we baked the pie without it,” Kristy said.
“But you can’t just leave things out when you bake!” said one of the boys in her class. Kristy glared at him. Her teacher cleared her throat. “Please go on, Kristy,” she said.
“Okay,” Kristy said. “After that my mom told me to check on my brothers. They were supposed to decorate the table. But they were arguing about how to do it. I walked in and saw them fighting over the tablecloth. I tried to tell them to stop. But they wouldn’t listen.”
“The tablecloth was on the table, and they ripped it. Everything fell off the table and broke. It was really loud, and there was glass everywhere!” Kristy said. She gestured with her hands to make her point. “My dad had to clean it up. My mom heard the noise and came to see. She saw my brother Todd step on the glass and get cut. She looked really upset. Todd was crying. My dad had to make him better. I made Todd laugh while my dad cleaned the cut.”
“Your Thanksgiving was horrible!” another boy said, interrupting Kristy. She glared at him. “It was not! I haven’t gotten to the good part yet,” she said.
“Then please continue, Kristy,” her teacher said. Kristy nodded.
“When Todd was all better, I smelled something burning. I asked my mom what it was. ‘The turkey!’ my mom answered. She ran into the kitchen. I ran after her. My mom took the turkey out of the oven. It was all black, and smelled nasty. And it was too late to start over.”
“You can’t have Thanksgiving without a turkey!” one girl said with a gasp. Kristy stamped her foot. “Stop interrupting my story!” she said, angry. “I’m just getting to the good part!”
“Kristy is right. It’s rude to interrupt. Please continue, Kristy,” Kristy’s teacher said. “And we’ll have no more comments until she’s done, right?” Kristy’s classmates all agreed. Kristy continued.
“My dad tried to cheer up my mom, but it didn’t work. Then I heard the beeper for the pie go off. My parents were busy, so I got the pie out of the oven. I made sure to use hot pads so I wouldn’t get burned. My mom lets me do it with cookies all the time,” Kristy bragged. Her teacher gently encouraged Kristy to stay on topic. She did.
“Anyway. I was bringing it to the table, when Todd got in my way! I tripped and the pie went flying. It went splat on the floor. I tried to say sorry, but my mom just shook her head. I think she was just too tired of everything going wrong. It was quiet for a minute. Then I heard Todd giggle!” Kristy’s voice suddenly became more excited. She spoke faster.
“I looked and saw him on the floor by the pie. He had it all over him, and was eating it! Then he said, ‘yummy!’. I decided to try some, too. And it was good! ‘Maybe we can still save some,” I told my parents. They both smiled and nodded, and my dad moved Todd so he could save some of the pie.”
“That’s a very nice story, Kristy,” Kristy’s teacher said when Kristy paused for breath. She’d been talking a lot, and very quickly.
“But I’m not done yet!” Kristy said. “There’s more!” Kristy looked and saw that her classmates looked bored. “Please let me finish!” Kristy said. Her teacher sighed, but she nodded. Kristy smiled brightly and continued.
“After the pie was saved, I heard my other brother from the dining room. ‘Come see what I did,” he said. So we all went to see. Jacob had decorated the table with the broken dishes. He wrapped them in pieces of the tablecloth and put them on the table. It looked really cool! Then I said that we should start cleaning up like Jacob did,” Kristy said, even though it was her dad that had said it. She didn’t feel bad for fibbing a little, though. She’d been thinking it!
“We saved part of the pie, and my mom found enough turkey was un-burned to make soup with another day. But I asked what we were going to eat for our Thanksgiving dinner. My mom smiled, and said we’d order pizza. We all cheered. Because pizza is my favorite food,” Kristy said. “And that was my Thanksgiving,” she finished, a big smile on her face.
“But pizza isn’t what you eat for Thanksgiving!” one of her classmates said. Kristy just smiled.
“It didn’t matter what we ate, because Thanksgiving is about family and being thankful. That’s what my mom and dad taught me. And as far as I’m concerned, that makes this my best Thanksgiving ever.”