The next day was Thanksgiving, my favorite holiday, and I was looking forward to seeing my whole family. Even though my three older sisters were married now, I was sure we'd all get together to eat turkey, relax and watch home movies.
I walked into the house, only to find there wasn't any sign of holiday preparations. What was going on? My mom must have been planning to start baking after dinner. At the dinner table, I found I couldn't have been more wrong.
“Listen, everyone, I have something to tell you about tomorrow,” my dad announced. “Your older sisters all have other plans this year for Thanksgiving. I've decided to give your mom a much-deserved break this year. I'm taking everyone to dinner at the Harvest Cafeteria tomorrow.”
“Dad,” I said, presenting what seemed to me to be the perfect argument, “the pilgrims(朝圣者) would never have celebrated Thanksgiving anywhere but at home.”
“Teresa,” my dad replied, “after nearly starving, the pilgrims were happy just to have food. I don't think it mattered to them if that food was served in their homes or at a restaurant down the street.”
I could tell it was no use arguing. I wanted to cry. When I awoke the next morning, there was no smell of turkey roasting in the oven. Instead I was greeted by the smell of coffee and burned toast. The day dragged by. At five o'clock, we headed for Harvest Cafeteria.“You could have picked a better place to eat,” I complained.
“Enough,” my dad warned. “Just enjoy your evening.”
Throughout the meal, my parents made attempts to lighten my mood. Finally, they gave up and let me sulk (生闷气).
By the time dinner was finished, none of us seemed to have the holiday spirit. We put on our coats and headed home. Once there, my brother, Marty, was pulling some DVDs of our family's home movies out of the cabinet.
“Do we have to watch these?” I asked.
“I'm sorry for spoiling everyone's Thanksgiving,” I said.