My family never really did the "traditional" Thanksgiving thing. While others gathered around a turkey with all the cousins and casseroles, we usually packed up and headed out of town. The idea was simple: skip the drama, make our own fun. And honestly, it worked.
My favorite Thanksgivings were at the Houston Galleria, which, to kid-me, felt like visiting another country. We'd check into the Westin Galleria--glitz, glamorous, and full of people who looked way fancier than us. Thanksgiving dinner was at Delmonico's, a steakhouse that made me feel like we were living large. When that closed, we just pivoted to Zucchini's at the other end of the mall.
The Friday routine was a classic. While mom power-shopped, Dad and I wandered the Galleria, hitting toy stores, and even a booth where you could record your own song on a cassette. By afternoon, we'd regroup for the Texas vs. A&M game -- me napping, them glued to the TV--before heading out to Westheimer for hibachi dinner.
Saturdays were more of the same: shopping, college football, and my dad finding ways to keep me entertained with museums or Toys R Us trips. Looking back, those Galleria Thanksgivings were the best -- less about turkey and more about laughter, adventure, and avoiding the usual family squabbles.
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