Thanksgiving, disgusting but we eat it

Nov 27

Thanksgiving with Dad meant two languages, English and whatever the hell “disgusting” is in Korean.

I remember the first time our new Korean familiy members joined us for Thanksgiving Dinner.

They were still new to speaking English, so Dad thought it would be a good time to teach them some new vocabulary.

He’d point at a dish as it came around the table and say it’s name in English.

They would diligently echo it back what he said to the best of their ability with absolute sincerity.

turkey… turkey.

dumplings… dumplings.

mashed potatoes… mashed potatoes.

stuffing…stuffing.

And then, green bean casserole.

No words… Just his silence for a beat followed by his voice, flat:

“Disgusting.”

Uncle Duke nodded solemnly. His wife too, “Disgusting,” like they’d rehearsed it.

Dad raised his glass, “To disgusting!” and everyone lost it.

Even the aunts, who barely spoke English, got the punchline because disgust is universal.

Like, yeah, this mushy, canned-onion-topped crime against vegetables?

Yeah, disgusting. And now it's tradition.

Every year, someone-usually me-makes it anyway.

We set it out, untouched, like a shrine to Dad's hatred.

Then we say disgusting in unison and eat everything else until our tongues hurt.

Maybe that's what family is-finding the one thing we all agree sucks, and loving it harder because of it.

So. If your table has a green bean casserole nobody wants-thank it.

Thank the man who called it out.

Thank the aunt who nodded like she'd lived through wars worse than beans.

And eat the pumpkin pie. Because love? Love is 80% stuffing. 19% pie. 1% screaming disgusting at the right time.

🌿 The Quiet After Class