13 Thanksgiving Traditions That Started by Accident, From a Locked Oven to a Pie Made of Presents

The year was 1986. I was a young Mom hosting my whole family for the first time. I had a double oven and the turkey was happily cooking in the top one. The bottom one looked dirty so before putting in the home made pies, I put the bottom oven on Clean. That locked the turkey on clean too.

My electrician grandfather tried flipping circuits. My 5-year-old son cried and asked what we were going to have to eat and my Mother said, “I think there’s some braunschwager in the fridge.” More crying.

The cycle had to complete and when the clean cycle finished we rescued the turkey. Which weighed 14 ounces since it had been cooking for 7 hours at 1000 degrees.

I have a picture my son made in kindergarten of his Thanksgiving. It’s framed. In his drawing I’m wearing an apron and holding a crowbar. (Yes, we tried to crowbar the oven open). His caption said, “First we got the turkey out of the ooven, then we had the Thanksgiving feast.”

And now, it’s always an Ooven, not an oven, and that, my friends, is Thanksgiving lore.

“My wife’s family made fun of me for wanting green bean casserole at Thanksgiving because they all hate it. My father-in-law felt bad and secretly made some for me anyway.”

Usually hard to tell either way, but I guess I really am on his good side.

I think it was trending [online] that day, so the [green bean casserole] hate was starting to really get to me.

“My family has a tradition of making ornaments out of polymer clay on Thanksgiving. Someone didn’t buy the right brand this year...”

We bought [a different brand of] clay. [That brand] also makes a multi-pack of strictly modeling clay that’s wax based.

Nowhere on the package does it say “Do Not Bake.” We all thought it was polymer clay.

We kept them. A little clear nail polish and on the tree they go!

Too funny to get rid of.

“Spending Thanksgiving alone and working every year can be rough. An old friend just dropped this huge spread at my house after my 12 hour shift. Can’t stop smiling.”

He was coming from his in-laws so I assume he brought some and they pitched in some as well.

Makes me think if he’s my friend I must be doing something right.

All he asked for was to see the kitten in the house.

I know he doesn’t want anything in return, but if I can’t pay him back I’ll pay it forward.

I got a 3 day weekend, plenty of food and video games to play. I’m having a fat weekend.

Every Thanksgiving we do the “Burning of the Napkin” where my uncle lights a napkin on fire using a lit candle from the dinner table and slowly lowers it into a glass of water while the whole family sings the Super Bowl theme song. It dates back about 25 years.

Just talked to the uncle to get a bit of history. Apparently this started when my aunts and uncles and my mother were children and sat at the “kid’s table” during Thanksgiving. They would run their fingers through the flame of the candle at the table cus they were bored children, and this slowly escalated into running various items through the flame.

My uncle did it with a napkin from the table and it caught fire and he quickly dunked it in a glass of water. I guess they did this every Thanksgiving since and the Super Bowl theme song got adopted at some point along the way.

“Aunt Desper’s Gravy”

Recently, I was able to visit my mom who is in her seventies. We made a wonderful supper together and as she was making the gravy she said, “Well, Aunt Desper made the gravy tonight.” I was like, “What?”

I’m in my forties and had never heard of Aunt Desper.

My mom said that the gravy was really thick, so Aunt Desper must have made it.

Me: confused look continues

Mom went on to explain that growing up, her mom would always blame really thick gravy on “Aunt Desper” as a joke. There was no real Aunt Desper. They were dirt farmers, but also, Grandma raised chickens to sell eggs. So, they had chicken twice a day, everyday. Fried or baked.

So, she made gravy twice a day as well, so statistically she was going to have some bad batches of gravy.

When they would go to my mom’s aunt’s house (Grandma’s sister), Grandma would poke at her sister and say, “I see Aunt Desper has been here.” The best that my mom remembered was her aunt asking Grandma if she’d heard from Aunt Desper lately, and Grandma responded, “Well, I heard that she went on vacation, but I think she’s back now.”

My mom has no idea where “Aunt Desper” came from, but it is a cute and endearing memory.

“My family looks forward to this tradition every year! And if your present is tangled with someone else’s, you have to give them a hug.”

Cheap little gifts, one for everyone in the family, go on a large platter. A ribbon with a name at the end is tied to each present, the ribbons are gathered so they come out through the center, and the whole thing is covered in brown paper and taped down “nice and secure.”

At the party, the family crowds around the finished Porcupie, everyone finds their name and grabs a ribbon, and on the count of three they pull out their first gift of the Christmas season. The words on the screen say the family has done this for generations.

“Why did I think this was normal...”

On a gray autumn day, a woman in a pink sweater walks out to a long garden table that is already scattered with seeds and nuts and pours out bags of snacks across it. As she does, she calls out to the squirrels that it is time for Thanksgiving breakfast.

The words on the screen explain why the author is laughing: “POV: growing up is realizing how strange some of your family traditions are. Like I really thought everybody was giving squirrels a Thanksgiving meal too.”

Every year our Thanksgiving consists of all the neighborhood strays, usually around 25 people. The food is glorious. When everyone is seated for dinner, my dad does a toast and then turns on the song Alice’s Restaurant.

Our entire family and regular guests sing the song as it’s being played. The newcomers are usually a little mortified and stunned that A) 20 people are singing the same song around the dinner table. B) we know ALL the words C) the song is so long. I’ve grown to love this tradition.

“We started spending Thanksgiving together before we had kids bc none of us could afford to go home for Thanksgiving and now we choose to spend it together bc we are like family. Love these people so much and so happy our kids get to be around each other for these special times.”

Eight seconds of one Thanksgiving: a kitchen counter crowded with a platter of turkey and side dishes, a long table on a covered patio where the grown-ups sit with full plates, and a picnic table on the lawn, with palm trees behind it, where a row of kids eat together.

The words on the screen name what these parents have been building all along: “they’re not really my cousins but our parents are best friends so we grew up together” kind of friendships. The song playing over it is “Our House.”

“My grandfather’s Thanksgiving tradition”

That’s my grandpa’s resting chair. He sleeps with the blanket over his head after a big meal. Prevents people from speaking to him when he’s too full.

Pro tip: use the legs to tie it on your head. Makes for great photos.

“Carrying on silly traditions.”

My mom used to watch the Thanksgiving day parade and she’d always yell at us to come quick to see whatever character. I used to get so annoyed, “Okay. Cool. That’s nice.”

I realized this morning I was doing the same exact thing to my kid. “Come look!” “There is [a cartoon dog]!” And I was getting the same responses, “Okay. I see. Alright.” I texted my sister and asked if she remembers this and she said she does the same exact thing to her kids too.

I love this. I hope our kids carry on this silly tradition and annoy their children every Thanksgiving as well. It really is the little things that mean the most.

“Every year, my family has a very special Thanksgiving tradition where we crown the Turkey of the Year. Please enjoy the crowning on this the 36th year of our gobble!!!!”

On a covered patio, a crowd in plush turkey hats gathers around an older man reading a proclamation from a sheet of paper. By secret ballot, he announces, “the council of elders,” made up of all prior Turkeys of the Year, has voted in “the 36th year of our gobble.”

He introduces himself as the original Turkey of the Year. The new Turkey must answer each question by gobbling, twice for yes and once for no. Then come a feather-trimmed cape covered in little turkeys and the first official Turkey March, a song about proud turkeys.