Thanksgiving with the Kings 2K10 – Part One


I woke up Thanksgiving morning to my brother turning on the TV and throwing on the parade.

I disliked this move as I was fast asleep on his pull-out couch and needed more sleep than I actually got, but who are we kidding here this is my brother (Mr. Kelly King Jr.) we are talking about. If I could have bitch slapped him without moving I would have, but that’s physically
impossible.

The aforementioned brother reconciled his actions, not through words, but by actions (Someone wise once told me they speak louder than words…) by making bacon and cheesy eggs.

I love cheesy eggs. Kell is exceptionally good at cheesy eggs, especially that time down in Miami in 2006 (the Miami 2006 spring break vacation needs its own multiple post arc, believe me).

The parade was all right, same old stuff you see every year. Snoopy went floating by, some random pop singer dude I’ve never heard of went singing by, SpongeBob Squarepants floated through, and then came Sesame Street.

Seeing their float brung back the memories of Big Bird, Grouch, Cookie Monster and the rest. They were singing a song I didn’t know, but it was very Sesame Street-y.

Then I noticed something strange, “where’s the Cookie Monster?!”

I was incredulous at this development. So I yelled to my brother. There’s no need to get up and go to the person when you are in my family you just yell. It’s how we roll.

“Kell did you see this?”

“What?”

“The Cookie Monster got shafted!”

“What?”

“The Cookie Monster isn’t on the float with the rest of the characters.”

“Didn’t you know? They changed the Cookie Monster to the Veggie Monster.”

“Are you kidding with me? You’re fuckin with me aren’t you?”

He wasn’t kidding me though; he really thought the Cookie Monster was no more, done, kaput!

I did a small bit of research and, thankfully, this is not true.

You see that Kell? The Cookie Monster lives on!!

Crisis averted.

About Will King

I've spent my whole life in Upstate New York and I wouldn't want to spend my life anywhere else. My son is perfect, even when he's not and my wife makes me want to slam my head against a brick wall all while keeping me sane. If you can figure all that out, let me in on it.
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