ThanksGiving Past

There is something extra magical about Hollidays when you are a kid.

Today, while we are 1,000 miles away from Home, having our own "Adult" Thanksgiving, I've been reminiscing on ThanksGivings we used to have. And I came across these photos from ThanksGiving 2012. 

 .                      

Mom would make an extra pumpkin pie the night before, so we could have it for breakfast on ThanksGiving day.

Our whole family would gather at either my parents, or my aunts House, because they were the only ones big enough to house our army. There was always a big debate on who would get to have it at their house, and both families always wanted it to be at their own. I don't understand why though, because looking back, who ever hosts has to clean the most.

 We had camping picnic tables set out, and we would all gather together near the TV where Grandpa's football game was on. He loves the Denver Bronocos. But no matter who was playing, the game was Always on.

With 12 kids, and 8-10 adults, there was always someone to sit by and talk to. It was loud and busy and messy, but that was the best part.

Every kid would get to make something, even the youngest. Usually a simple dessert or side dish. We would always fight over who got to make the ambrosia. I would insist it was my right as the oldest to get first dibs on what I wanted to make. I called it Amberosia, and I would get very angry if one of the cousins got to take a turn making this, especially if they modified the recipe and didn't make it how I deemed correct.

My Aunt Tara would always bring the best pies. Not the traditional kinds, but chocolate or pudding pies. 

Dad would make a ham, coated in Mustard/Brown Sugar mix.

My other Aunt and my dad would always get in an argument about each others kids behavior. There would always be at least some fight or drama between the cousins. 

Grandma would make the biggest, best dinner rolls every year, and she would try to set some aside just for me because they are my favorite. (Bread is life)

No matter who cooked the Turkey, Grandpa always cut it. 

And when dinner was ready all of the kids would line up youngest to oldest and get their food.

Its the simple little things that you remember that become cherished memories.