It used to be one of my favorite holidays. It has become my least favorite. It used to be different, when I was little.
It used to be Monopoly for hours and hours. A game started with my cousins as soon as we were finished eating– that lasted hours into the night. Sometimes my sister and I even ended up sleeping over and we played until the wee hours of the morning. We engorged on desserts throughout our games, multiple pieces of pumpkin pie and whatever other treats my aunt or mom had made. It was a never ending, face stuffing, laughing until we cried, insomniac kind of night. I’m pretty sure we never played Monopoly by the rules. If you landed on Free Parking, you got $500… we never auctioned a property… we gave each other money to keep each other in the game. It didn’t matter though, we just wanted to have fun. The boys, as we called them back then (we even still might), had their traditions. Eric had to be over dramatic taking money out of the bank when he played banker, which prolonged the game, he had a fake toilet bank that flushed and he would have to flush the toilet before he rolled the dice, Dirk… well Dirk always quit when he was close to losing(I think he’s the reason we always gave our money away). Did we ever have a real game? I don’t think so. But, it didn’t matter. We had fun…
It was a tradition that started when we were about 10. The four of us– Eric, Dirk, Sarah, and me. Soon, Brett would join, then Liz. As we grew, the game fell apart. We started dating, or got married, and the game lost it’s flavor that it had when we were kids staying up all night. It became too many… less goofy, not the same anymore.
Now, Thanksgiving is with another family for me. It’s my least favorite– we sit around, watch football and pretend like we are searching for deals in the papers, when really we don’t go Black Friday shopping. We sleep in. It’s tame, and uneventful.
I miss Monopoly, pumpkin Pie and the silliness that was hanging out with the boys.