An American Story Thanksgiving was always one of the strangest days growing up. Most people spend the day with one family, eating one type of food and following one set of traditions. For me, it usually meant splitting the day in half. The morning always started with my dad’s side of the family meeting up for the annual family soccer game. Uncles, brothers, and cousins would all play and it was much more competitive than it should’ve been. Afterwards we would all eat tamales