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Some people are going to read this heading and think that I am stupid. “Old Joe doesn’t understand mashed taters? What an idiot!” First off, that is rude. Second, I am probably not stupid. As I enjoyed my Thanksgiving feast this past Thursday I eagerly awaited the best part of the day: the meal. I was very excited to enjoy turkey, cranberries, and my favorite: the mashed potatoes. I always take an extra large portion and load it with gravy. It is what I do.
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You can imagine my shock when I sat at the table and couldn’t find the mashed potatoes. I saw the sweet potatoes, but couldn’t find the classic regular ones. I immediately began to feel dizzy as panic set in. Surely we would have mashed potatoes. Everybody loves mashed potatoes, right? I regained my composure and said quite casually, “Are there mashed potatoes?” I looked my mom in the eyes and her uneasy glance told me all I needed to know. There would be no mashed potatoes.
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I don’t understand Thanksgiving without mashed potatoes. How could I give thanks for anything without my rock and my true love, mashed potatoes?
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Now here it is 4 days later and I still have no answers, only an empty place in my heart and my stomach where the mashed potatoes belong.
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