The biggest mystery at our Thanksgiving dinner isn't how Aunt Martha made that gelatin salad.

It's whether the turkey or my cousin started crying first after someone asked about his career choices.

Our family's Thanksgiving dinner seating chart isn't about politeness or proximity to the food.

It's a strategic battlefield plan to minimize exposure to Uncle Steve's political theories and Aunt Carol's 'When are you getting married?' interrogation.

Our family Thanksgiving dinner has two main courses:

Turkey with all the fixings, and unsolicited life advice from every generation.

Why did the turkey go to the doctor before Thanksgiving?

It had a fowl cough!