Assignment 14: Brennan Cegelka

Thanksgiving. I hear stories of upwards of 30 people in a chaotic house for a big fat thanksgiving meal. This is not the thanksgiving I tend to have. Both my parents are only children so no cousins, no aunts, and no uncles. Our closest relative from Kentucky, my grandfather, lives in Florida. But, life works in mysterious ways. Five years ago, my dad was on a business trip in San Fransisco, and who else would he see but one of his best friends from high school Scott Winter. They started talking and my dad invited them to have thanksgiving with us in Kentucky. Their son was a freshman at Ohio State, so for the past four years the Winters have met us in Lexington to have a “friendsgiving” of sorts. Our pre-thanksgiving preparation usually consists of my mother taking the reigns of the household and telling the rest of the family to clean up because “Winter is coming.” And it always seemed that the second we finished and could take a breather, there was a knock at the door. My poor brother is the baby of the eight of us who have thanksgiving, at 13. The four parents, me (16), Sterling the college student, and Sophia who will be a freshman in college next year. Our family likes to show the Winters a piece of Kentucky when they come out to visit. We’ve taken them to Keenland, and a horse farm to name a few. Our thanksgiving day consists of an argument of what the difference between a sweet potato and a Yam, football, and of course, turkey. Next year the Winters plan on taking us to the Michigan vs. Ohio State football game for Sterling’s last year in college. And finally on that fateful day after thanksgiving: Black Friday, the winters pack their bags and as one Winter leaves, another winter approaches Lexington