“What about Nana, can she go too?”
The question came from our twelve-year old daughter, Ashley. It was the last thing I needed to think about at the moment.
“Sure,” I said. “Why not? But for now, let’s just focus on enjoying this wonderful Thanksgiving feast. I mean, here we are, all gathered around the table. Thanksgiving dinner, turkey and all the trimmings. It doesn’t get much better than this, right?”
“I still don’t understand why we have to eat so early,” our teenage son said. “This is the stupidest Thanksgiving dinner ever.”
“Now, come on, Tyler, it’s not all that early.”
“It’s ten-thirty in the morning,” my wife said from the other end of the table, unhelpfully.
“Yeah,” Ashley said. “The parade is still on, and we’re eating dinner.”
I sensed a brewing revolt. As head of the household I was going to need to suppress it, and fast. “Now, we already talked about this and agreed to-“
“I didn’t agree to anything,” Tyler said.
“That’s because you’re fifteen. You’re opinion doesn’t matter. Yet. Maybe when you’re sixteen it will,” I said.
“Honey,” Terri said, trying to rein me in.
“Look,” I said, “we’ve covered this ground. Humongo-Mart is giving away cookies and coffee starting at four this afternoon. They’re rolling out their Black Friday deals. Free food and shopping. A slightly earlier than usual Thanksgiving dinner seems like a small trade-off to be able to take advantage of spectacular savings, not to mention free sweets and caffeine.”
“This is more like Thanksgiving breakfast,” Tyler said.
“Little known fact,” I said. “That first meal, with the Pilgrims and the Indians?”
“Native Americans, honey,” Terri said, gently correcting me.
“Yes of course,” I said. “Either way, that meal occurred much earlier in the day than we’ve been led to believe.”
“Really?” Ashley said, her voice full of childlike energy and curiosity.
“Absolutely, I said. “There was no electricity, right? I doubt they were sitting there in the dark eating dinner at four or five in the afternoon.”
“Plus it would have been cold,” Ashley said.
I liked it, a big assist from my daughter. She was on board with me. I could always count on her, no matter what. The other two, I wasn’t so sure about.
“That’s right,” I said. “I’m sure those Pilgrims and Indians were probably chowing down right about now.”
“Native Americans, honey,” Terri said, somewhat less gently.
“Doesn’t matter what you call them,” Tyler said. “No way they were eating Thanksgiving dinner at ten in the morning.”
“We’re closing in on eleven now,” I said. “We’ll call it Thanksgiving brunch.”
“Nice tradition,” Tyler said, with a huff.
“There are other traditions,” I said. “Going to Humongo-Mart with our fellow Americans and enjoying eye-popping sales, and delicious cookies, is a wonderful way to enjoy the holiday. I’ll bet the football games are even on the big screen TVs in the electronics department.”
“And Nana can come?” Ashley asked, again.
I looked down the table at Terri. She shrugged. It was her mom but I was getting no guidance. The idea of a ninety-one year old woman with a walker slowing us down in the aisles of Humongo-Mart wasn’t particularly appealing, but what the hell. It was Thanksgiving, after all and it would make Ashley happy.
“Absolutely,” I said. “I’ll call over to Easy River Living and make sure she’s ready to go.”
“Would have been nice to have her here for Thanksgiving dinner, I mean, breakfast,” Tyler said.
“I tried,” I said. “But it was a little early for her to get ready. Again, a small trade-off for what lies ahead. Who’s ready for pumpkin pie?”
A couple of hours later we were in the SUV, well fed and semi-content and picking up Nana. It was always a struggle to get her up and in, but she was a champ. We had the walker folded and stored away, and Nana strapped in and ready to go.
“I’m looking forward to dinner,” she said. “Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays.”
“You came to the wrong car,” Tyler said.
I looked at Terri and she looked at me, and we both realized the message hadn’t been conveyed to her mother.
“A little change of plans, Nana,” I said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “We’ll have a little something to eat later, maybe a snack. But we’re just going to swing by Humongo-Mart and do a little shopping.”
“On Thanksgiving?” she said, baffled. “Are they even open?”
“Oh, they are indeed,” I said.
“And they’re giving out free cookies and coffee,” Ashley said.
“Yea,” Tyler said.
“Well, this is an unusual way to spend the holiday,” Terri’s mom said.
“Just a little early Black Friday shopping,” I said. “Another great America tradition, like Thanksgiving.”
“Black Friday?” Nana said, even more baffled. “It’s still Thursday, right?”
“It is, mom,” Terri said, trying to reassure her.
“We’re just getting a jump on Black Friday sales, that’s all,” I said.
“Will they have those ballbuster specials?” Nana asked.
Tyler let out a laugh, Terri gasped, and I almost drove off the road.
“That’s doorbuster,” I said, but barely before Ashley spoke up.
“What’s a ballbuster?” she asked, sweetly from the back seat.
“Yeah, dad,” Tyler said. “What’s a-“
“Well, look at that, we’re here,” I said, guiding the SUV into the parking lot. “And it looks like we’re not the first ones.”
“This place is packed,” Terri said, with a hint of alarm.
Out front of Humongo-Mart a large digital display flashed Happy Thanksgiving.
“Come on everyone, cookies are on me,” I said.