I can only remember one time we tried to have thanksgiving dinner and it was a disaster. Ive told this story on another blog before that I deleted but I don't think any of you were around then. It was thanksgiving and I was 8 and was helping my mom in the kitchen. Which my "father" hated and led to name calling fag,queer, sissyboy the works. Anyway I'm helping and I'm peeling potatoes at the time so he comes up behind me and goes off yelling about how I'm not peeling right I'm taking off to much potato with the skin. He says who the fuck you think pays for them boy you sure the fuck don't. Then they all get swiped off the counter into the floor. I didn't get much of a whipping over that other than hit in the back of the head when he was standing behind. What really makes me remember the day is him saying you want to be a little queer faggot then be one outside and then he made me strip to my underwear and locked me out on the front porch. My mom tried to get me back in but he wouldn't let her near the door. I didn't stand out there but for about 30 minutes I think then a neighbor saw me and took me next door. They knew how he was so they didn't even ask me why am I outside in my undies,they just knew. So I reckon ya ll can guess what I'm thankful for this year without me really even saying it.