"Didyou know that Montana is the largest supplier of turkeys?" My uncle Dennisrambled on about other useless facts, thinking my other uncles were moreinterested in him than in the tied, fourth-quarter football game on TV. As forme, I was trying to finish writing a story about ancient Egypt for school whilelistening to my uncle name every person who signed the Mozambique Peace Treaty of1835. This was not my idea of a fun Thanksgiving.
I was sitting with mymom at my grandparents' house. It had just snowed, and the little sunlight thatwas peeking through the clouds reflected off the clean snow and the porch window,causing a blinding glare. Overcome by writer's block and sheer boredom, I startedbiting my nails. My mom looked up from writing her annual Christmas letter."Don't do that. Go help Grandma in the kitchen."
I obedientlygot up, smiled at Uncle Dennis when he tried to tell me that the name Krystalcould be spelled five different ways, and gave an exasperated look to my grandpa,who was sitting in "his" chair. Suddenly, I smelled smoke and heardscreams coming from the kitchen. I got there in time to find an item thatresembled volcanic rock in the microwave.
"That was the stuffing...," Aunt Anne dictated to her video camera as she zoomed in on the"rock."
How did I ever get stuck with this crazy family?
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