Its Thanksgiving, and you're back at home
with all of your relatives.
You're all gathered in the familiar setting of the old dining room--always nice to return to a place you've been so many times. The house has now been remodeled and redecorated, and it's hard to recognize it.

It always seemed so crowded at these family dinners, with everyone jammed around the dining table, a couple of card tables extended on the end through the archway into the living room for the kids to sit at. But now we all sit so comfortably at a shiny new oval table. Your uncle sits across from you. They're all from Ohio.
"Ohio gozaimas" you think.

"WHAT?" says your uncle, directly and a bit peeved.

"It means 'Good Morning' in Japanese."

"Yes it is," says grandma.

"My grandma, what big, almond-shaped eyes you have," you say.

"There you go again telling stories," she says with a smile.

"You know, we're not really related" he says, and you think about your father and aunt being brother-sister and then you realize that this is your foster family. You're not related to anyone. Then some man who you think is your foster-brother puts down the big plate in the center of the table. Shiny stainless-steel; and on it is one crisp but slightly wrinkling (from the baking you suppose) 10 dollar bill.

"Do you know which president is on the 100 dollar bill?" he asks as he begins to slice the bill with a long knife and fork to hold it in place.

"Grant?" says someone at the end of the table.

"It's Ben Franklin, who wasn't a president," replies the carver.

"This guy wasn't a president either." and he slides the top half of Alexander Hamilton's head on a dessert plate in front of you."
"A square meal, don't you think?"