I think that the world’s best Thanksgiving must be,
Thanksgiving in Florida on Siesta Key.
Thanksgiving in Florida with nine kids, to boot:
Our three kids, six cousins, and way too much cute.
My wife’s mom and dad, plus her brother and sis,
Their spouses, and me — family vacation bliss!
We went for the blue skies and powder-white sand.
We had a full week of relaxation planned.
We didn’t foresee the problem we’d have here:
That nine kids will come with nine kids’ worth of gear.
Nine kids’ worth of sandals. Nine kids’ worth of towels.
Nine kids’ worth of buckets and plastic sand trowels.
Nine kids’ worth of bathing suits, hung out to dry.
Nine kids’ worth of sand flying into your eye.
How does so much sand make its way from the shore,
And wind up in piles on our clean bathroom floor?
Nine kid’s worth of settling minor disputes,
About who hit whom, or who stole all whom’s loot.
Imagine trying to keep straight all their goggles!
Just don’t try too hard, for the mind simply boggles.
Nine kids’ worth of beach bikes traversing the shore,
And bike locks whose combos we don’t know no more.
Nine kids’ worth of helmets on tan, sandy heads.
Nine kids’ worth of sand in their cozy twin beds.
They’re paddling kayaks through rows of mangroves,
In search of wild creatures and lost treasure troves.
They’re building sand castles — well, more like sand moats.
They’re braving the seas with their tiny toy boats.
Imagine a dad — me — laid out for a snooze.
The sun roasts his feet; he’s abandoned his shoes.
Imagine his daughter — next month turning 3,
Whose favorite thing (after Mommy) is he.
She’s fresh from the ocean, holding a small net,
And totally, shivering, cold-soaking wet.
His core body temperature rapidly drops,
When onto his belly, her cold belly flops.
And now that he’s upright, in cold-induced shock,
She scampers away to check out a cool rock.
The fun doesn’t stop when they all come inside.
It’s right around bedtime when they hit their stride!
They’re raiding the cupboards and grocery sacks,
For cookies and Cheetos and sugary snacks.
They’re watching TV when they should be in bed,
Paying no attention to what Daddy said.
And yet …
Nine kids is a whole lot of giggles and laughs.
It’s sweet bedtime stories and cute verbal gaffes.
It’s make-believe, games and elaborate schemes.
It’s stuff that they won’t do when they become teens.
It’s family photos with sunsets behind;
It’s memories forged in their growing young minds.
I think that the world’s best Thanksgiving must be,
Thanksgiving in Florida on Siesta Key.
The blessing of loved ones together once more ...
I think that’s the thing that I’m most thankful for.
— Peter Celauro is a contributing columnist. Readers can email him at [email protected].
