Flan

Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday from the time I can use my memory, until I was a freshman in college.
I didn't love it because of the obvious: the food... since I've never really been a fan of food.
I loved it because:
- the weather is awesome.
- having so much family gather for an occasion where we give thanks and appreciate each other is always welcomed by me. Plus, I got to run around outside and kick boys in the nuts... long story.
- the memories made every year (like kicking boys in the nuts) warms my heart...

Of course... then came college.
I noticed how my father's side of the family was so... carless and... well, we pretty much were a burden to them. They threw parties, but would always "forget" to invite us. When we'd throw parties, they wouldn't even call to let us know they weren't showing up.
Fuck you guys. I'll give you the same importance you've given me: zero.
They fake a unity that isn't there... just so outsiders can think we're all merry and all that bullshit.

By college, more people were also drinking... so... more people were drunk... and more people were fighting... or mortifying others.
I don't exclude myself from this one. I'm guilty of at least one angry outburst, of which I'm not too proud.

Then there was the infamous 2007 Thanksgiving, where Dad massacred Mooney's dinner party mood by announcing he had cancer... that was fun.
That year my favorite chemistry teacher passed away after a hefty Thanksgiving dinner... no lie. It was heart-breaking. He made Biochemistry a little less painful with his stripper jokes. He will always be remembered.

Today, I can honestly say, it felt as good as when I was a fourth grader.
The weather was cold... warm clothes were worn... and only the family members I really care about came over (except for Mooney's brother... he was sorely missed).
We're all "grown up" so to speak... but we still laughed about stupid shit. We still cracked jokes about Pokemon... watched crazy YouTube videos... and we all snuggled over to the 60-whatever inch TV to watch the very family-oriented "The Godfather" while we finished our dinner with the world's GREATEST flan (no, there's no arguing... it is THE best).

My maternal side is THE flan of my life. Gracias. Los amo! :)

And no, no balls were harmed during the making of this wonderful memory.