We cook a huge family dinner with them about twice a month. Connie goes all out regardless of the occasion, never ceasing to amaze us with the culinary masterpieces she creates. Buck mans the grill, as all seven kids ride bicycles and tricycles in the driveway and run on the well-worn path made by little feet that joins our houses together. The sounds of children laughing and crying- and the television broadcasting the sport of the season echo out of their garage and throughout our neighborhood.

Connie’s daughters and I go back and forth between the two houses as well, making good use of both kitchens and preparing enough food to feed the entire neighborhood. Their garage functions, as a bar, a game room and when it’s time to eat, a dining room as well.

It was only natural to spend Thanksgiving with our adopted family this year. Even though we cook with the Whitmires on a regular basis and see them often, I wanted my girls to understand why Thanks-giving was such an important meal.

 The night before the big day, I laid in bed with Aubrey and Emma to talk about being thankful and how I expected them to behave during dinner.

“Girls, tomorrow we will use our fanciest manners. What does that mean?” I asked them.

“We put our napkins in our laps like this,” Aubrey demonstrated with a nearby blanket, “and we say ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’ ”

“And, no crying at the table,” Emma said.

“That’s right Emma, no crying at the table. And if you don’t like something you just leave it on your plate and don’t pitch a fit. If you do like something, then you can use a fancy word and tell Nana.”

“I will, Momma. I will tell her this turkey is divine!” Aubrey exclaimed.

“And, these ta-toes are de-wish-us!” Emma chim-ed in.

I thought we were prepared for an uneventful Thanksgiving dinner, and throughout the meal both girls appeared to be on their best behavior.

Aubrey flashed me a thumbs-up from across the room as she unfolded her napkin in her lap, and began to eat with Tyson, a neighborhood dog sitting happily under her feet. Emma made a big fuss talking about how delicious everything on her plate was and ate all her vegetables.

Aubrey asked politely for another roll, and didn’t even argue when I told her to take a few more bites of the fried turkey leg on her plate first.

As I was tucking the girls into bed late that night, I praised them for their good behavior during dinner and throughout the day.

Aubrey’s eyes were rolling back in her head, and she could barely keep them open to finish our conversation. “Well, I didn’t really like that turkey my Daddy made,” she said.

“That’s OK, I’m proud of you for eating it anyway and acting like a big girl.”

“Actually,” she said sounding much older than her 5 years, “I dropped some of that turkey on the floor and I just hoped you weren’t looking.”

I guess this explains why Tyson seemed so happy.

And regardless of who ate her turkey, I am thankful that we had such great company to share it with.

(Robin O’Bryant is a Mount Pleasant resident and mother of three. Read her blog online at www.robinschicks.com or e-mail her, zebandrobin@hotmail.com)