Everything Wrong with Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving, in One Stupid List
From the (Thanksgiving) Archive
Think you’ve got a rough Thanksgiving this year? Maybe so. But just look at everything one poor, round-headed kid had to deal with.
Best friend’s sister thinks I’m the most stupid person alive.
Miss football, fall flat on my back, and kill myself. Again.
Traditions slowly fading away.
Dog leaves the mailbox door open.
I was expecting a turkey card.
Holidays always depress me.
Little sister’s trip to buy a turkey tree proved unrewarding, due to early overstocking of Christmas merchandise.
She thinks she has to write an essay on Stanley Miles.
She means Miles Standish.
She can’t keep track of all those people.
Thanksgiving Day is upon us—another holiday to worry about.
Little sister hasn’t even finished Halloween candy yet!
Know-it-all best friend (carries a blue blanket) has something wise to say.
Little sister: “Isn’t he the cutest thing?”
Idea of best friend and little sister holding hands under the table.
Girl with green sandals (at best an acquaintance) won’t let me finish a sentence over the phone.
She keeps calling me Chuck.
“We’ll keep these intimate things to ourselves, okay, Chuck?”
Girl with green sandals has invited self, plus “great kid Marcie” plus “Franklin” for Thanksgiving.
I’m not even going to be home!
Girl with green sandals will hate me for the rest of my life.
Know-it-all best friend thinks the best solution is to have two dinners.
All I can make is cold cereal and maybe toast.
Know-it-all best friend has to add: “You can’t butter it.”
Dog stuck in basketball net, garage door.
Garage absolutely stuffed with junk.
Little birdie squashed flat by basketball.
Dog stuck in folding ping-pong table.
Dog wastes full minute of prep time playing ping-pong.
Dog wastes two full minutes of prep time fighting with beach chaise. Loses anyway.
Main helper with food preparation? Same. Aforementioned. Dog.
Last minute additions to toast/cereal menu include popcorn, jelly beans, pretzels.
Little bird becomes trapped and disoriented under folded napkin. Dog doesn’t wash plate.
Dog spends two full minutes on ridiculous pilgrim outfit for self and bird.
Dog accidentally shoots self with pilgrim popgun.
Now “great kid Marcie” is calling me Chuck.
Franklin’s seating choice embarrassingly lower than everyone else’s.
Know-it-all best friend doesn’t seem to know the difference between giving boring history lesson and saying grace.
Dog “shuffles” toast before serving.
Dog serves by hurling loaded plates in “Frisbee” style.
Girl with green sandals unhappy with menu.
Big consolation turns out to be lesson on “perspective”…”gratitude.” Oh, wow. Perfect.
Girl with green sandals—real name Priscilla?—calls me “sly dog” just for shaking hands.
My grandmother sounds like a trombone with cup mute on.
Yeah, right. I’ll just bring everyone along for another Thanksgiving at Grandma’s house.
Group sing-along in crowded station wagon is badly out-of-phase, and not in a cool, Steve Reich way.
My grandmother lives in a condominium.
Meanwhile, dog is probably having delicious traditional Thanksgiving with bird (and using power-tools in doghouse) behind my back.
Originally published in Punchnel’s on Thanksgiving Day, 2016, a very bad Thanksgiving indeed. Still, there have since been even worse ones.
Man, this is great! The list structure really helps drive your overarching point home, yet it still reads like a blog to me.
Hysterical! Schultz was kind of a genius. I was literally getting ready to stream this chestnut when I saw that you had posted this. Now I have a play by play. It's been years since I watched it. I hope you, Ruth, and Hazel are enjoying each other, friends and family. You all are in my list of blessings.