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First off, thank you all for coming. Rumors have come out today online saying that I once ate literally dozens of delicious, buttery dinner rolls at family Thanksgiving in the fall of 2002. I come to you to confirm those rumors and offer some explanation as to my behavior on that evening.
In 2002, I was in my teens. I was a growing boy. Unfortunately, once my growth spurt wore out, I continued to grow in the pants and shirt size department. As a fan of food for my entire life, I now have a healthy respect for food. When I was that age, I was not respectful of food. Many times I ate multiple Chipotle burritos in one sitting after hockey practice. In short, I was a growing boy who was extremely hungry at all hours of the day. So as you can imagine, I was very excited for Thanksgiving.
That day wasn’t unlike any other Thanksgiving celebration I had experienced. It was at my parents’ house. My cousins on my dad’s side would be over for dinner, then my mom’s side would come over for dessert and wine. The day began with football, light appetizers and some moderate physical activity outside which involved throwing the football around and maybe some wiffleball. Fall in the Midwest. Can’t beat it.
As family members began to arrive, the anticipation of the evening’s meal began to mount. I hadn’t eaten much all day. I was in the early stages of my growth spurt which is to say that whenever I wasn’t beating off, I was eating, as teenage boys do. Sorry to get graphic, that’s just any young man’s life from ages 13-25. Don’t blame a fish for wanting to swim.
I could barely contain myself as the meal approached. The family prayer couldn’t get done quick enough and I shoved aside several family members to begin loading up my plate with food. Since I was still a young chap, my palate wasn’t nearly refined as it is today. I loaded up on carbs. Mashed potatoes, stuffing, sweet potatoes and bread. The turkey was just for show.
I’m not claiming to be an expert, but carbs don’t fill you up like protein does so I probably could have just eaten forever that day. The dinner rolls were delicious. I don’t know what happened, but these were different rolls than we’d ever had at any family gathering. These were special rolls. Delicious, flaky and airy. Not quite croissants, but somewhere in between a Hawaiian King roll and a croissant. I began shoveling them into my mouth with reckless abandon.
Before I knew it, I had put away at least six of these rolls and was well on my way to eating every damn roll in the joint. My brothers and cousins, who are still as ruthless in their early 30s as they were in their mid-teens, began asking questions. “Brian, how many rolls have you had?” “Where the hell did all the rolls go?” Unashamedly, I took responsibility for the missing rolls.
After that, my family members challenged me to eat as many as I could. So I kept going. I kept shoveling them into my face. I don’t know the official number, but it was at least a dozen. I don’t know where the 19 count came from. Probably extrapolated year-over-year growth due to exaggeration by a brother who loves attention who will not be named.
I will not apologize. I don’t care if I ruined Thanksgiving that year. I don’t recall if I did or not. I enjoyed every last one of those rolls, and if you want to cast stones, be my guest. I will not change. That’s my promise to you as a man and as someone who respects the sanctity of Thanksgiving. My gluttony may be viewed as unforgivable by some in my family, and is brought up every year once everyone is drunk enough to bring it up. I shall wear it as a badge of honor.
Thank you and Happy Thanksgiving,
Brian K. McGannon .