Things I don't miss about old-fashioned, Norman Rockwell era Thanksgivings.

[Major Nikon]

13. Me neither

My grandmother always handled the turkey, but my dad did most of the rest of it. Dad smoked a pipe, but only in his office and I always thought Captain Black left a pleasing aroma even there. Smoking was never allowed at the table. There were a few who helped with the cleanup, including the men. Us kids were delegated to the kids table, but there wasn't enough room otherwise. My uncle always preferred to sit with us, but he was something of the black sheep of the family. Anyone who drank too much would have incurred the wrath of my grandmother and never heard the end of it. Nobody was that brave. Dad was a Unitarian minister. Racism, sexism, or homophobia wasn't tolerated in our home even if others did it elsewhere. Dad would run you out of the house for it even on Thanksgiving and everyone knew it.