"You know that just before that first Thanksgiving dinner there was one wise, old Native American woman saying, 'Don't feed them. If you feed them, they'll never leave.'" - Dylan Brody

I think that's exactly what my Aunt Bev thinks.

Yep, another Thanksgiving in M'town with my completely dysfunctional and hilariously funny family. 

I have to give a shout out to Facebook, because if not for FB, I wouldn't have gotten to know my cousin Emily as well as I have.  She's funny, and not only funny, but fun to be around...meaning she's a lot like me so I don't hate her.  And she's beautiful and is strong family-minded.  She visits grandma even though grandma swears nobody ever visits (honestly, I don't think grandma wants anybody to visit, but if you don't, then she gets mad. Same with calling grandma-- Ummmmm, grandma, the phone works both ways!).  Anywhoo, I could go on forever about grandma, but back to Em. I'm just thrilled we're friends as well as family.  I will be forever grateful to Facebook for that.  Not much else, but definitely that.

On to the hysterics of the day.  Here's your first tidbit.

That's my Aunt Bev wearing a dishtowel/apron. What's sad is, it matches her outfit, too.  Not the most fashionable thing I've seen, but it really is better than this:

Once she got this on, it was on for the duration. Poor woman. I know what to get her for Christmas. 

The food was great, as always. Anytime anybody cooks for me, it's always good.  The conversation was even better.  Did you know my 80-year-old-something grandma is hip?  She's up on everything. The Kardashians ("I think they had botox in their butts") and the Desperate Housewives of Every City. We had a long conversation about the Atlanta Housewives ("They put vaseline on his penis! And a 50cent piece on the baby's belly button!").  I think it's cool that my grandma watches all of these shows. 

Of course, there was a Spoons game involved, after dinner.  Ben, girlfriend Nicole, my 17-year-old niece Zoe, Emily and me. I wouldn't let anybody else in the game.  We're the Elite.  All the rest are amateurs.  I'm competitive like that. If you're going to play me, you have to be at least 16, because if I draw blood, I don't want it to be on a 10 year old.  I wouldn't want to explain that at the ER.  We did have a couple of incidences when I thought for sure we were going to end up there anyway.  Apparently, it doesn't matter to my brother that you're his girlfriend....or sister.  He'll rip your finger off to get a spoon.  Competitiveness in my family? Yeah, you could say that.  And Emily and Zoe both leapt to get spoons that had fallen on the floor.  THAT's what Spoons is about.  It isn't over until the Spoon is in somebody's hand. 

Fortunately, they were ALL.  IN.  MINE.  Maybe that's why I had such a great Thanksgiving.  I'm the Golden Spoons Champion.

Here's all of us after the game, just before we left. 

Back Row: Cousin Sarah, Cousin Emily, Me, Brother Chris, Brother Ben, Niece Zoe
2nd Row: Bailey (Sarah's daughter), Aunt Bev, Grandma, Mom, Nephew Victor
Front Row: Jacob (Landi's son), Lily (Emily's daughter) Niece Sadie, Nephew Kyle

No blood. No black eyes. No missing chunks of hair. All hands & fingers in place.  This is proof.