Norman Rockwell is a myth . I don ' t think there has been a perfect family that gathered around the table , grinning happily at each other , while the matriarch serves an ohsoperfectly cooked turkey to complete the perfect meal . Thanksgiving is always a disaster , in my family . The turkey is either so burned , Santa could use it for kids on the Naughty List , or else so underdone that it still has feathers . And the cranberry sauce is more like soup . The mashed potatoes could be used for mortar for a house . How we aren ' t all dead yet could be the thesis for Cousin Bradley ' s Masters in Biology . That ' s not to say that we ' re unhappy , oh no . We all seem to like each other , more or less . Delusional is probably the better word . We ' d have to be delusional to like each other in the first place . Two grandparents . Four children and their spouses . And twelve grandkids , including me . Well , that ' s a start , I guess .