A Thanksgiving Day!

My stepdaughter had to write a story using all of the words listed...and of course...being a writer, I just HAD to do this!! And NO, I didn't give it to her. I made her write it herself! :P

Drizzle / Struggle / pickle / Ripple

gobble / Wiggle / hobble / Article

meddle / Spindle / topple / Triple

shuffle / Speckle / hurtle / Jingle

bundle / Griddle / vehicle / Bugle

 

 

     It was a dreadfully stormy evening one Thanksgiving day, and the majority of my family had already arrived at my warm, cozy home. The mouth-watering aroma of turkey basting in the oven tickled my nose, making my smile grow even wider. Several appetizers were piled high on a folding table covered with a decorated holiday tablecloth in the living room: cheese squares, pickles, a variety of meats tightly coiled, chips and dip, and pretzels. Aunt Dorothy and Grandmother had already gotten out some of the old Christmas music, and I could hear someone blowing on a bugle. I chuckled and shook my head. We hadn't even gotten the turkey out of the oven yet, and already they were anxious to reach the next holiday.

     Picking up my glass of red wine, I wandered over to the window and gazed outside. The storm had subsided to a light drizzle, but according to the weatherman, it was only going to get worse. Hitching a hip against the window's ledge, I took a long sip from my glass, becoming lulled by the bitter-sweet taste teasing my senses.

     Behind me, a few of my nieces and nephews were playing on the living room floor. Clara, only 18 months, began to wiggle and fuss, causing a scene until her mother picked her up with a warm smile, gaining a giggle and causing a bright flush to spread across her plump cheeks. I couldn't help but giggle as I watched Shane struggle with a marker to stay inside the lines in his coloring book, brow furrowed and tongue sticking out the side of his mouth in deep concentration. He looked up and gave me a big, innocently childish grin, his blue eyes speckled with silver dots twinkling. I watched Troy, a tiny boy with red hair and freckles, hurtle a particularly menacing "B" block towards the wall. He, too, grinned at his short-lived victory, and continued stacking blocks together.

     Grandaddy was engrossed in an article from today's newspaper, and Uncle Rick shuffled a deck of cards, taunting his son and earning a string of colorful words that had my eyes widening. Leave it to Ralph too add some holiday spirit to the party, I thought with an unbecoming snort and giggle.

     A sudden jingle of the doorbell brought me out of my thoughts, and as the door opened, I watched a tiny bundle of pink hobble in through the door. I caught an endearing grin and a flash of blonde hair before the little girl toppled ungracefully to the floor. A deep male voice filled with laughter came from behind the door, and strong hands emerged to righten my niece back to her feet.

     "Aunt Chelsee!" a sad voice wailed behind me. I turned around to see Jane, only 6 years old, hobbling awkwardly towards me, her feet unnaturally close together. "Shane tieded my shooz and I- I- can't...get them off!" The last of her words seemed to increase in volume the angrier she became, and I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing.

     I tried my best to give Shane a stern look, but was wholly unsuccessful. I leaned down, unable to contain a chuckle, and tried to untie Jane's shoes. I gasped in mock horror and looked back up at the little girl's tear-streaked face. "Why, Jane Hathaway! You're shoes are tied in triple knots!" I shrieked, earning an angry, disgruntled huff. Shane squealed in delight at his sister's dagger-eyed gaze, and ran towards the safety of the kitchen.

     "Well, that'll teach him to meddle with her shoes again," my grandaddy chuckled. I rolled my eyes and gave him a scolding stare. "Oh, come on now! Don't be so harsh." His eyes twinkled and his grin was far too charming for me to really get onto him.

     I smiled and pulled Jane's shoes off, pushing her lightly to go and play. She ran off with a vengeful roar, no doubt in search of Shane to give him a well-deserved pummelling.

     "I parked the vehicle on the side of the street," Sharon, my sister-in-law and the mother of the pink bundle, informed me just as she finished unwrapping Hailey. "I hope that's fine?"

     Hailey ran to me with outstretched arms and an ear-shattering squeal, and I caught her mid-flight as she dove into my arms, smothering me in kisses. She smelled of candy and baby powder, and she giggled in delight from seeing me again. "It'll be fine!" I answered, grinning down at the tiny blonde girl in my arms. "Are you ready to gobble up some turkey?" I asked her excitedly, earning a quick and endless bob of her head. I laughed, sat her back down, and watched her run off towards the other children in the living room, her adorable blonde curls springing wildly with each bounce.

     "Oh, now, would you just look at this mess?" My grandmother's unhappy voice grew louder as she emerged from the kitchen. The bottom of her shirt had a sizable tear in it, where apparently the thread had come undone. "Chelsee, do you have something I can stitch this back up with?" she asked me in a huff.

     I smiled and linked my arm through hers, leading her up the plush, carpeted stairs to my sewing room. I sat back in my favorite red velvety sofa and chattered mindlessly with her as she hemmed the shirt, the same way she had done countless times before to my own clothing when I was a child. The scene brought back warm memories, and I closed my eyes for a moment, a happy look plastered on my face.

     After finishing my fourth glass of wine, the colorful thread flowing through the sewing machine's spindle had me captivated. I could feel a sudden warmth tingling through my body, and my head felt a little woozy. I had a nice little buzz now, and it was exactly what I needed to keep me relaxed throughout this entire trial we all labeled as the holidays.

     As I studied my grandmother, I had to bite my lower lip hard to hold in a giggle after noticing a ripple in her side. Feeling rotten, horrible, and like a total brat, I excused myself and made my way back downstairs, returning promptly to the kitchen to refill my glass. I noticed that a griddle had been left unattended and was currently cooking some delicious-looking breaded squash. I flipped a couple of pieces over, inhaling deeply their delicious scent.

     I looked around the kitchen, realizing it was now empty and I was alone. The sounds of holiday music, laughter, and children playing wafted in through the doorway, and I felt an all-too-familiar hollow pang deep in my chest. I wondered what my father would do tonight for this holiday, if he was having a nice dinner, too, or if he was once again eating just another TV dinner. Would I have to bring him a plate of food over later tonight, as I had done for countless years past? Once again, he'd decided that the family was far too terrible and hateful towards him for him to show up.

     I turned my back on the happy sounds and downed the entire glass of wine, the sharpness of its flavor almost gagging me. That's right, Dad, I thought bitterly, we're just all out to get you. It's all about you, everyone else be damned. I hung my head low, and my eyes began to mist over with the same tears that always visited me during the holidays.

     But not today. I dashed away the tears from my cheeks, refusing to let his absence yet again ruin another holiday for me. Squaring my shoulders and lifting my head high, I refilled my glass and made my way back into the living room, back to the rest of my family. Yes, this would be a holiday I would enjoy--all else be damned.

    

Author's Note

Once again, my step-daughter in the 5th grade had to write some story and use all of the listed words in the beginning. Being a sucker for a writing challenge, I had to do this myself! After glancing over the words, a Thanksgiving dinner just popped into my mind.... Here goes nothing! :P Hope you enjoy!

Reviews

[Frederick E. Conkling]

This was an interesting story. Original, well written great job. I remember having to do the same thing at my high school. It was fun writing then, but reading a story inspired by the challenge is even better. Well done my friend.