The Thanksgiving Squirrel

(Pop art Thanksgiving Squirrel)

In 7th grade I was sitting with my crew at lunch. We were talking about how parents make up characters just to give presents. We were probably going on about how, that was the trouble with kids today, too spoiled, too many made up characters giving them presents. Truthfully, it hadn't been that long since I stopped believing in St. Nick. Oh, sure I said I just believed in 'the spirit of Santa Claus' as an 11 year old, but I definitely thought a man in a red suit turned into jelly and slid down the chimney to leave me presents. It wasn't until I found my mother's meticulously cataloged receipts, chronicling each and everyone of my presents. I digress. So we were talking about how silly the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny are. I nodded, and slowly worked up the courage to say something (some time I'll tell you about how awkward I was as a jr. high schooler). I carefully rehearsed just what I was going to say, and how I was going to say it. I casually chuckled, cocked my head to one side, shrugged, and said "yeah, and what's the deal with the Thanksgiving Squirrel?" (Seinfeld was still very big at the time). And how did my comrades respond? With deafening silence. If it had been a late 90s teenage coming-of-age movie, you know the type that always included a wild house party, the DJ would have scratched the record, the music would have stopped, and all eyes would have been on me. After what felt like 45 minutes of nothing but crickets and nervous throat clearing, someone finally piped up with "What's the Thanksgiving Squirrel?" I quickly explained how this squirrel would bring you presents, usually something small like a nightgown, on Thanksgiving. Why not Turkey, some asked. Because you EAT turkey on Thanksgiving, you idiots!!!! Is what I thought, but instead I sheepishly shrugged and looked down. It turns out it's something my mom had made up. Every Thanksgiving as we were out the door, on our way to 9am Mass, my mother would have to run back inside to fetch a baby bottle, or a can of olives to be blessed. But what she was really doing was hiding our Thanksgiving present, and setting out a stuff animal squirrel, so we would know the Thanksgiving squirrel had been there. After Mass Steve would pretend to see the Thanksgiving squirrel in the road ahead. He would speed up, and swerve, pretending to hit and kill the squirrel. We would all just cry and cry. But when we got home, we'd see that sassy stuffed squirrel and know it was all okay.

T.S even made an appearance November '93. Why is that significant? That was the Thanksgiving my parents surprised the three little girls (me, Emily and Brittany) with a trip to Disneyland. The older kids went too, but they knew about it the whole time, and almost ruined it for us, when my eldest sister asked if we were all going to be sitting together on the plane, and then again when my brother hit my mom in the leg with a dart. But it all worked out, and the little squirrel brought us pjs in Anaheim. Mine had a flannel hood, and I loved them.


To end this post I would like to tell you what happened as my mom looked for our stuffed friend. She was riffling through one of the two LARGE Tupperware totes, which contain the Sandbo Family Thanksgiving Decorations. She started making a clicking sound.
"I'm calling him" she said. "He must not be in this one, he would have answered me." She opened the next box and continued to click. "He must be dead. He would have answered me." Thank God she was able to find him. I'm pretty sure he's the only one who has ever existed.