While I respect Carson’s opinion on Thanksgiving, I also condemn it as un-American. What other holiday is more representative of Americans than an entire day dedicated to gluttony, greed, sloth, and if you’ve ever seen how good my roast duck looks coming out of the oven — lust.
Thanksgiving is by far my favorite holiday because it centers on eating until pant buttons burst, drinking until your liver reaches for a white flag and laughing with my beloved family until my sides split.
Some of the fondest memories I have with my family have stemmed from Thanksgiving get-togethers. While I understand that this is a point of dread for some, I enjoy time spent with my loved ones.
And let’s not forget the food. Mounds upon mounds of delicious fare (unless my mother has cooked it) with nary a concern of its expansion to my waistline.
Carson also argues that Thanksgiving is like Christmas without the good aspects, but I wholeheartedly disagree. I would rather spend hours in the kitchen than spend wads of money fighting the hordes of mindless shoppers that should give thanks I’m not a violent person. And I would much rather listen to a chorus of a dozen stomachs attempt to digest thousands of calories than God-awful Christmas music.
Christmas’ “holiday spirit” is riddled with anxiety, whereas for me, Thanksgiving is a day of food, drink, relaxation, board games, good conversation and football.
It also serves as a reminder to be thankful for all that we have, whether it fills our stomachs, keeps our head dry from the rain, pays our mortgage or lights our hearts with joy.
And I’m sure I can speak for my entire family when I say we are also thankful that I, not my mother, do the cooking.