Bob MacMann was your average Midwestern man: working in insurance, married to his college sweetheart, Sarah, and raising two adorable yet demanding kids. Every year, they hosted a Thanksgiving feast that left everyone patting their bellies in satisfaction and filling the house with joyful laughter and good vibes. Their celebrations always comprised everyone in their extended family, an array of lip-smacking delicacies, and not to mention the overindulgence in eating.
By the end of the Thanksgiving break, when it was time for Bob to fit back into his daily attire for work, he found his clothes a bit snugger than they were a week before. Must be the dryer, he reasoned, after failing to buckle up his favorite belt. Shirts wouldn't button, pants wouldn't zip up. The dryer must have been shrinking them! Bob spent several frustrating weeks with uncomfortable clothes until his waistband gradually relented around the new year, but only to resume the cycle with the arrival of another Thanksgiving feast.
Despite noticing this pattern over the years, Bob always shifted the blame onto the innocent dryer. One day, however, after yet another sumptuous Thanksgiving dinner, Sarah lightly suggested, Honey, do you think it might be the food rather than the dryer? Bob was puzzled, thinking about his refrigerator stuffed with holiday leftovers.
It hit him like a slap on his still-stuffed stomach. Sarah was right. It wasn't the dryer; it was the refrigerator. The sweet seduction of pumpkin pie slices and creamy mashed potatoes left behind was adding to his waistline! The left-overs kept him in the feasting spirit, making him sneak late-night snacks more often than not.
Bewildered, Bob chuckled. All these years, he had been scapegoating the poor dryer when in reality, the culprit was the unassuming refrigerator, which stored all those Thanksgiving extras. This new realization led to a commitment. He pledged to moderate his after-Thanksgiving eating habits and put the yearly expanding waistline saga to rest.
It took time, but gradually Bob became mindful of his post-holiday binging. He figured a jog around the block wouldn't hurt either. The ensuing year saw a leaner, fitter Bob emerging triumphantly, able to button his shirt with ease even after Thanksgiving, marking the victory over the deceptive refrigerator.
And that's how Bob learned his lesson that blaming the dryer wouldn't hide the refrigerator's sins or fit his pants better. From then on, Thanksgiving at the MacMann’s meant feasting without remorse, with Bob relishing the dinner and winning against the 'mystery of shrinking clothes.' Bob often laughed telling the story, with Sarah, on his side, joyfully chirping, I told you so. The lesson they learnt has now become a quirky yet iconic family anecdote told and retold every Thanksgiving.