OK, folks, another Thanksgiving has rolled our way.Leave it to Americans to invent a holiday that is a terrific time to get stuffed on food, drink and football.I’m surprised more of us don’t suffer cardiac arrest on Turkey Day. No wonder the Pilgrims themselves didn’t eat pumpkin pie. And they would have been absolutely shocked to see Berks Countians treat gravy as a beverage.My one aunt had a gravy bowl so gigantic they could have used it as a swimming pool liner. I had an uncle who could inhale so much food at one sitting his digestive tract seemingly came equipped with a threshing machine.No wonder he eventually became bigger than the Pioneer Crossing Landfill in Birdsboro. When he passed away, his casket was so large it would have made a great buffet table.Indeed, you have to hand it to Berks County folks. We may lose manufacturing jobs and some farmland, but we never lose our stomachs. On Thanksgiving we can make our belt buckles snap with the best of them.What I like about Thanksgiving is the tradition. In our family, we have a rich tradition of sharing the labor. The women have been doing the cooking and the dishes for the past 30 years. And they are scheduled to do them for another 30. Then the men will take their turn.Of course, one year after a particularly robust Thanksgiving feast, we had a pile of dishes stacked higher than the Pagoda. So we called in the Mount Penn Fire Company to hose down the plates. And then we all passed out, feeling as if we had swallowed Spring Township. Happy Thanksgiving, everybody, and don’t choke on a drumstick.