Pass the gravy

If you left your bed at all over the past few weeks, it was pretty obvious that many people were concerned for the Thanksgiving holidays. Not us. We had a plan. During our two hour trip to visit with family, we determined that if any conversation even came near politics, someone would yell, "Would you please pass the gravy?" Never mind if dinner wasn't even being served, it seemed to us like a plan that could be successful.

Thankfully (see what I did there?), our Thanksgiving was free and clear and no one had to request the gravy. Although during the two hour trip home we did find out that there were two near-misses where the word gravy was on the tongue but just that quick, wasn't necessary.

We forgot, however, that the King family needn't have been concerned like the rest of the US because we had our own personal reason to be scared for too much family togetherness. His name is Victor.

I think maybe we let our guard down because up until the hour before we were to leave, the worst that had happened was that Victor had hurt an uncle's feelings by calling him by the wrong name (an uncle on the other side of the family, no less) and he had called most of us stupid at least once for not allowing him to do something he wanted but which was not allowed. As an example, Eden got it once because she wouldn't let Victor play with my dad's Phillies bat collection. What do you mean he wasn't allowed to use Steve Carlton's bat as a drumstick on their walls? I guess it could be argued she had it coming, right?

But then....

The adults were all quietly sitting around watching a slide show of my parents' recent trip to Italy, and enjoying the stories of their time there. And, if we're totally honest, letting Thanksgiving dinner digest. The four youngest cousins were upstairs doing what youngest cousins do best - have fun together. This particular bit of fun involved sliding down the stairs on their backsides.

And then, as also usually happens with youngest cousin fun, we heard thump thump bam crash thump bam bump.

But it wasn't a person. It was a briefcase. My brother's briefcase. Laptop included.

"Mom, Victor threw it down the steps!"

Well, yay for us? We almost made it out of Thanksgiving unscathed. Almost.

Would someone please pass the gravy?

Go ahead, enjoy some pictures of a simpler, happier time - the annual Thanksgiving day craft...