Happy White Trash Thanksgiving to You and Yours

Years ago, back when we were still dating, Troy and I started a tradition for the day before Thanksgiving. We call it White Trash Thanksgiving. Here's how it works: For supper we treat ourselves to Kentucky Fried Chicken mini-banquet specials. Because it's a holiday, we even get one of the parfait cups. No silverware is allowed--we must use only the spork provided with the meal. (Kyle, however, is given a real fork. No need to repeat the "I think he swallowed part of the spork" incident of 2005.) While we eat, we watch COPS (or NASCAR, if we can't find COPS on any of our 100s of channels--that's actually happened once). We let Kyle run around in just his diaper. We call each other white trash names, like Cletus and Joleen. More recently, we've added trips to Wal-Mart and the Salvation Army as part of our tradition. 

Now, lest anybody be offended, you have to know that this isn't much different from any other night in the Schoeneberger household, except for the spork thing, the NASCAR, and the white trash names. Those mini-banquet specials are tasty, and they're a great deal. COPS can be very entertaining (we like to make bets on how many minutes go by before there's 1) a guy in wife-beater shirt, 2) a guy with his crack showing, 3) a naked baby, and/or 4) a mullet). Kyle loves going to the Salvation Army--begs for it, even--because we always buy him a cheap toy. And Wal-Mart is one of my favorite stores. I hate myself for loving it, but man, the prices are good. 

And so, if anything, we're making fun of ourselves. But I see it more as celebrating who we are, accepting it and embracing it. I don't do that often enough.

I'm proud of our little family tradition. It's unique, just like we are.

Happy White Trash Thanksgiving!

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