Thanksgiving, our eminent moral holiday, doesn't have much for children. At its heart are conversation, food, drink, and fellowship–all perks of adulthood. If you throw in sex, sports, and Homeland, as I imagine some families do, you've nearly got the whole of modern adult happiness.

I was 23 when I learned how to cook; I grew up around the same time. It was precisely then that Thanksgiving started to mean something more. Growing up, Christmas was always about me, and eventually you when I finally started to enjoy the giving part. But Thanksgiving is always about us.