Today I'm feeling nostalgic for the Thanksgivings of my youth...
Particularly, the ones where the young cousins were crammed into my grandmom's kitchen at the kid's table.
Chatting and carrying on over the buzzing drone of the electric turkey carving blade (wielded by my Uncle Joe).
Stuffing ourselves silly with Atlantic City bread...(my god, that bread).
Admonishing my brother's deplorable table manners (affixing the buttered heel of said bread to his nose, his signature move), while trying to stifle a laugh.
Scheming with my cousin, Therese, to roll the holiday into a sleepover (at her house, me on the floor, predictably and comfortably, in her Strawberry Shortcake sleeping bag).
Brandishing the nut crackers to break everything but the walnut shells while impatiently waiting for dessert (mmmm...pizzelles! my grandmom's cheesecake with cinnamon generously sprinkled on top!)
Playing "bar" in the basement (which basically involved an empty cocktail shaker, some Tupperware containers, and a cash register) while the grownups drank coffee and washed dishes upstairs.
Mostly, though, the crowd...
I like a crowded Thanksgiving and I miss those days.