Thanksgiving by Norah Newton

Every Thanksgiving was the same. My grandparents would drive down from New Mexico and stay the night. They slept in my sister’s queen bed so that my sister had to sleep with me on my bunk bed. The next day, we would see a movie and drive to my aunt and uncle’s. I would always throw up on the way, no matter what. When we got there we greeted the rest of the family and watched Netflix while my grandma went to the store. She brought home a fat, juicy turkey. After that, we would make biscuits, in all different shapes. I made a snowman, while my sister made a star. My parents always made us take pictures in the snowy backyard. Afterward, I would play in the snow and peek in the rabbit holes. I knew it was useless, but that was the fun part. My sister would torment the cat while I played ping-pong. We would do this all day until it was dinner. We passed around food and stories, until it was time to play Things. In things we had to answer a question and guess who wrote what. I never was good at it, but it was fun anyway! We stayed the night in one of the empty rooms, but we could never fall asleep. The next day we would go out to breakfast and then back home. I’m always waiting for thanksgiving!

One day in Aurora, “Thank you sooooo much!!!” I shook from the excitement. I had gotten a fluffy cat stuffed animal that looked just my aunt’s cat, Choncho.

“I still think you should of gotten the Barbie closet,” My sister said. She had gotten a Barbie car.

Later, “Choncho, NO!!!” I think Choncho thought my toy was for him. He was staring mischievously at my cat.
“He didn’t do anything,”He tried to snap at my sister, but missed.

Still later, “Hey, hey, Barbie…Life in the Dreeeeeamhouse.”
“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” I screamed.

Choncho was climbing up the couch to my cat! I snatched up my toy and put it on the table. Choncho thrashed at the table and walked away, his tail in the air.

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About joelnewton

I am a husband to Hillary, a father to Anna and Norah

Posted on January 22, 2017, in Norah's Posts. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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