Since this is the last post in my Thanksgiving week extravaganza, I thought I’d talk about my favorite Thanksgiving memory.
Of course, I’m talking about that time that Peppermint Patty invited herself to Thanksgiving dinner over at my place and invited a bunch of people on top of it. I was in a fix, since I only knew how to make cold cereal, but Woodstock and Snoopy came to my rescue, fixing toast and stuff like that. Sure, Peppermint Patty complained, but then I blew up at her and somehow we all learned the real meaning of Thanksgiving. Then that damn dog went out to his doghouse with that damn bird where it turns out they had a full Thanksgiving dinner all ready that they just didn’t see the need to share with me. Man’s best friend indeed.
Wait…this might not have actually happened to me. It occurs to me that I never did have a dog named snoopy. This may have in fact been the plot of “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving” instead of something I actually experienced. Oh well, I suppose it’s all good. I’m sure I watched it on Thanksgiving, right? That counts as personal experience, doesn’t it?