A Thanksgiving mystery

Thanksgiving was originally a time to give thanks for a good harvest season. These days, good harvests aren’t trending topics with too many people, so we’ve turned the holiday into a time to give thanks to any and all of the blessings in our lives.

I was fortunate this year to have Thanksgiving meals, complete with periods of thankfulness, with both my extended family and my in-laws. Everything was wonderful, until last night, when I got home from dinner number two.

A wave of fatigue hit me like a ton of bricks and I soon found myself in bed. Within an hour, I realized I had some sort of stomach ailment and, before the morning, it had also hit my wife and daughter. It was interesting to note that my son seemed unaffected and I realized this could be a useful clue in solving the case of what do I have and who gave it to me?

I really don’t know why I bother with these types of investigations as I don’t know how I will ever be certain I’ve solved the case. And, if I was ever to know who precisely had given me their sickness or accidentally poisoned me, what do I intend to do? Confront and scold them for their shocking lack of judgment and appalling display of selfishness? Tell them I’m thankful they live in different cities and don’t have the regular opportunity to inflict me with their diseases and venomous food?

If I assume I’ve either picked up a case of stomach flu or food poisoning, my investigation must consider several factors. If someone I came in contact with was sick and gave me their germs, when exactly did this happen? Is it possible this person or persons was no longer showing signs of their malady?

A family member giving me their sickness reminds me of a game I played as a young boy in school. In the game, someone was secretly told they were the “murderer" and told to wink at people as they passed by. The person receiving the wink would wait 10 seconds, then fall down to indicate they had been “killed,” the time lapse working perfectly to mask the identity of our classroom serial killer. In the game of family sickness, the murdered victim has left the dining room table and driven home before they know they’re about to get sick, without so much as a wink of warning.

Devious.

The problem with pinpointing the source of food poisoning at a family meal is that half the family didn’t order the salmon, while the other half had the veal-we all ate the same stuff! So, how are some of us feeling miserable and others feel just fine? And, is it possible that the idea of everyone contributing a dish to the meal is actually just a way to ensure no one can ever know who left their creamy dressing in the car too long? Ah yes, the wonderful alibi of the pot luck.

Well, I’m sure I’ll never figure this out and have to admit that the exercise is a complete waste of time.

In keeping with my 500 words, I’m moving on. To give this some closure, I’m going to blame all of this on heat stroke.

That’s right. When, oh when will I learn to wear my hat?