Thanksgiving Dinner
“Thanksgiving’s not the same without grandma,” Peter said,
passing the stuffing to Grandpa, who shrugged and passed the dish to Aunt Gwen,
who was sitting to his right.
“More for the rest of us,” he said.
“Dad, please!” said Peter’s mother, Marcy. “You could at
least feign mourning.”
“What does feign mean?” Peter asked around a mouthful of
stuffing.
“It means…” Marcy began.
“Ow!” Peter yelled, pulling a large costume jewelry ring
from his mouth.
“Isn’t that one of mom’s rings?” Marcy asked.
Grandpa grinned. “You
want me to feign surprise? How is that stuffing, by the way?”
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