the cheese stands alone

Monday Memory

In a vague attempt to increase my vampish sexual powers amuse myself, I've decided to try and start a meme. I've never really understood where memes come from... do they spring up mysteriously in the night? Does the Meme Fairy bring them to good little blogboys and bloggirls? Nobody really knows.
So I guess I can make the attempt and see what happens.

My meme will be called LeeAnn's Wonderfulest Idea Ever Monday Memory. Every Monday I'll ask a question and ask people to search their memories and answer it, either on their own page and link back to the question, or answer it in the comments.
If it works, peachy. If not... okay, there's another 10 minutes of my life I'll never get back.

So, today's Monday Memory question is: "What Thanksgiving dinner is your family still talking about?"

Mine is this:

Every family has the relative whose claim to familial fame is getting completely shitfaced at all holiday gatherings. Great-uncle Rudy was ours.
Rudy was a retired professor of zoology, and he fancied himself the family historian as well. Whatever the occasion, Uncle Rudy would show up half in the bag and proceed to pour himself into the other half during the course of the evening.
One Thanksgiving, Uncle Rudy was holding forth during the meal on the traditional roles of women as pertains to cooking, serving dinner, and cleaning up. (It came up when Mom asked who wanted to help her dig table out from under the dinner debris.) Rudy went on and on about Victorian customs, and how maids were always women, and generally set himself up to be mugged on the way to his car by all the family females.
And then Uncle Rudy's prodigious burp met with Uncle Rudy's active gag reflex, and Uncle Rudy upchucked right into his plate.
Everyone screamed and ran.

We refer to it as The Thanksgiving Uncle Rudy Cleared The Table All By Himself In Under Three Seconds.