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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
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| June/July
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Winners,
Finalists & Honorable Mentions from the August/ September 2005
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October/ November 2005 Contest is
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"Thanksgiving"
By Kim Risburg,
Nashville TN
Honorable Mention
Ah, Thanksgiving. Time to sit down at a table heaped with goodies, contemplate all the things you are thankful for, and see how long you can sit in the company of loved ones without losing your sanity.
It is rare that I get to spend Thanksgiving with family; the holiday is too close to Christmas to deserve a separate trip. When I do make it back, I am thrust into a world in which family structures are imposed upon each member as if time were not a force to be reckoned with.
For my mother in particular, Thanksgiving is a special time to celebrate togetherness. On this one day, with her family close at hand, all is right with the world. It doesn’t matter that her children have not been children for years. It matters only that there is a tradition to be upheld, and if she does not uphold it, who will? In times of dizzying change, there must always be Thanksgiving, mustn’t there?
I’m not so sure that there must, which is why my participation in this holiday has been spotty at best. For one thing, I’m a vegetarian who doesn’t like to cook. (I also have a great gift for food propulsion. Give me a knife, a cutting board, and a carrot, and you will see a startling display of vegetable aerodynamics.)
For another thing, I’m not a shopper, which means my mother gets no help from me when she wants company for her day-after-Thanksgiving sales outings. The fact that I have no interest in shopping, from my mom’s point of view, makes me something of an aberration of nature.
Since I was small, my mother has looked to shopping as a social event and a bonding opportunity. She sees shopping as a chance to spend quality time with my sister and me, while picking up a few wanted items. I see it as a mild form of torture, comparable to spending three hours in a doctor’s waiting room with nothing but a copy of Popular Mechanics to read.
My mother and sister share what I call the “shopping gene.” Both of them can smell a retail outlet from miles away. If I’m in the car with the two of them, I run a high risk of being dragged into at least one store en route to our destination. Clothing stores, for reasons that mystify me, hold particular appeal:
Mom: Ooh, look at this!
Sis: I like the purple one…
Mom: Honey, do you like these?
Me: They’re okay.
Mom: How about the ones over there?
Me: I have plenty of sweaters already, really.
Mom: This would look good on you…
Since I was a child, my mother has experienced an overpowering need to buy me clothing. I’m closing in on
40, and yet she continues to express what are apparently deep maternal instincts by making sure I have at least three of each item a typical department store would offer, preferably in matching colors. If I won the lottery tomorrow, she would insist on taking me out and buying me a sweater to celebrate.
Mom: How about this one?
Me: Ugh. Can we go now?
Sis: Not yet! I want to try on this one…
My sister takes after my mother, except that her wardrobe must include about six parts sweaters to one part everything else. My sister probably has upwards of
50 sweaters crammed into her closet. Since winter can only last so long, I’ve no idea how she finds the time to wear them all.
Mom: You need more sweaters.
Sis: I know!
Mom: Not you…
Me: Can we go now?
I will not be spending Thanksgiving with family this year. When mom calls to see how I’m doing, I’ll assure her I’m on my way out to buy a sweater.
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