Forgot to tell you

About the Thanksgiving Dinner. When I got to A.'s sister's flat, M. was smelling of turkey fat and whatever else he had been cooking (it turned out to be a cheese and nut loaf - a labour of love for me, apparently) and he hugged me briefly before he went back into the kitchen. A. was in serious chef mode, wearing a sweaty stained grey T-shirt and shorts while standing red-faced over the stove. A.'s parents were calmly surveying the (surely) genetically modified 22 pound turkey.
"That's not the biggest turkey we've cooked."
A.'s dad told me proudly. Apparently the title belongs to a 28 pound monster cooked several years ago.

Finally twenty-odd hungry people sat down along a table that was constructed of many different tables (the dining table, the patio table, whatever table you name it, it was part of the table) covered with a red cloth. A. and M. had made sure the stuffing was on our end of the table - this caused great uproar, naturally. No one except me had the brussel sprouts - clearly I am all alone in my love for them. The gravy boat kept getting 'lost'. People quickly cottoned on to the fact that if you have an empty plate, that meant you got another full serving - so everyone left something on their plate. One poor Australian bloke didn't get it fast enough so he got two full plates of turkey, gravy and mash, vegetables, sweet potato, squash, corn bread, cheese and nut loaf and stuffing. Now you see why we ate enough to tide us over until spring - and I didn't even have the turkey.

"Why do Americans celebrate Thanksgiving?" asked an Australian (there were a couple of them there).
"It's because when the Pilgrims arrived in America, they were thankful they didn't starve because the Native Americans gave them food. So they all shared the food. And then they shot the Native Americans," A.'s brother-in-law said.

A.'s dad was trying to kill people by force-feeding them large slices of a sickly sweet pecan pie.
"This is when we should be watching American football," A. said.
"A bit like Christmas in England, then. You fall asleep during the Queen's speech after Christmas lunch," I said. A.'s dad stared while M. and I shared a massive slice of pumpkin pie.
"Sharing already?" he said, eyeing us both with mock disapproval.
"It's only dessert," I said.