When asked to pick a favorite meal, the choice for me is never easy. To put it simply: I love food. Some nights, my favorite meal is a giant burger with everything you could possibly imagine on it, or maybe one day all I want is pancakes, perhaps I want a greasy butterburger to fulfill my hunger. One thing is for sure though—I love Thanksgiving. 

I wake up to the sound of every possible appliance in the kitchen running. I almost fall as I roll off of the twin side bed in my grandma’s upstairs bedroom. I turn to my cousin and ask what time it is, not yet comprehending the imperative events the day will bring. After I change into the outfit I layed out the day before, I begin walking downstairs. 

As I walk into the kitchen, I smell the warm rhubarb pie sitting on the counter. It’s right there, so close, I could eat the whole thing for breakfast. I walk over to it to get an early bite. Almost instantaneously, my hand is hit by my grandma's favorite spatula, as she tells me “Wait your turn.” 

This year, my mom decided I am too old to sit and watch football with the boys, and that as a woman in the family, I must fulfill my role as chef on thanksgiving. Thankfully, though, I get one of the easiest jobs: making deviled eggs. I cut the boiled eggs in half, then take the yolks out. I mash them in a bag with some other secret ingredients (that my grandmother puts in the bag for me), and pipe the magical new substance back into the holes that were left behind. I sprinkle paprika and absolutely engulf five of the eggs before putting them on the table. 

Later, I sit down at the giant table. I feel the rough carpet on my feet, the hard wooden chair against me, and the bright white tablecloth soft under my fingertips. The first thing I reach for- the stuffing. Its light fluffy texture along with the delicious taste creates the best part of my thanksgiving meal. Next, the Mashed Potatoes. As the warm, soft spuds melt in my mouth, all I can think about is the wonderful pie I will soon be stuffing my face with. 

Thanksgiving is my favorite meal. It is the best food, and I only get it once a year. Even though I love the food, thanksgiving is really not about the food. It is about sharing what you are grateful for with your family.  It is the only meal, my mom, my dad, and my brother all sit together to eat together. I get to see all of my favorite Aunts and Uncles and of course, My grandma. Thanksgiving is my favorite meal.