Thanksgiving Dinner or Thanksgiving Leftovers?



9 thoughts on “Thanksgiving Dinner or Thanksgiving Leftovers?

  1. Leftovers. It’s the only way to create the perfect turkey sandwich with the “moist-maker” built right in (cf. Ross Geller).

  2. I love dinner for the company, but there’s nothing better than the turkey sandwich I made for lunch today.

  3. Leftovers rule. I’m usually too tired or overwhelmed to enjoy the dinner.

    Oh, turkey sandwich… come to meeeee!

  4. All you crazies who voted for the dinner need to get busy making more leftovers for me! How can anyone eat pumpkin pie for breakfast and then vote “Dinner”?!

    And Matt, you have leftover company?

  5. Well, it sounds absolutely awful, but what does it mean? Are these guests that stay more than one day, or did someone “accidentally” leave their kids behind at your house? Or are these guests that nobody else invited;, i.e., after all the relatives where invited, you got the “leftovers”?

  6. Guests that no one claimed, like Blocks Biloxi:

    “I was married in the middle of June,” Daisy remembered, “Louisville in June! Somebody fainted. Who was it fainted, Tom?”

    “Biloxi,” he answered shortly.

    “A man named Biloxi. ‘Blocks’ Biloxi, and he made boxes, that’s a fact, and he was from Biloxi, Tennessee.”

    “They carried him into my house,” appended Jordan, “because we lived just two doors from the church. And he stayed three weeks, until Daddy told him he had to get out. The day after he left Daddy died.” After a moment she added as if she might have sounded irreverent, “There wasn’t any connection.”

    “I used to know a Bill Biloxi from Memphis,” I remarked.

    “That was his cousin. I knew his whole family history before he left. He gave me an aluminum putter that I use today.”

    The music had died down as the ceremony began and now a long cheer floated in at the window, followed by intermittent cries of “Yea-ea-ea!” and finally by a burst of jazz as the dancing began.

    “We’re getting old,” said Daisy. “If we were young we’d rise and dance.”

    “Remember Biloxi,” Jordan warned her. “Where’d you know him, Tom?”

    “Biloxi?” He concentrated with an effort. “I didn’t know him. He was a friend of Daisy’s.”

    “He was not,” she denied. “I’d never seen him before. He came down in the private car.”

    “Well, he said he knew you. He said he was raised in Louisville. Asa Bird brought him around at the last minute and asked if we had room for him.”

    Jordan smiled.

    “He was probably bumming his way home. He told me he was president of your class at Yale.”

    Tom and I looked at each other blankly.


    “First place, we didn’t have any president.”

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