Thanksgiving is known as the holiday to embrace your family and be thankful for all their love and support. You all get together in a loving circle and hug and eat turkey and sing kumbaya.

But we all know that most Thanksgiving dinners consist of a baby screaming, Grandma passed out at the end of the table, an uncle or aunt who drank too much and is ranting about politics and Mom and Dad asking themselves why they continue to host dinner at your house every year.

While my family may not represent all of the above, we are crazy. Possibly certifiably, but who can really tell? Besides, we’re all crazy when you think about it. But, back to Thanksgiving.

It’s tradition that my dad’s side of the family gets together for this favorite American holiday, and for some reason my house is always the gathering spot. My dad has two brothers, one from New York like us, and the other from Texas. Then I have my dad’s cousin (who is essentially my aunt) all the way from California, my great-aunt from Florida and a shit-ton of cousins ranging from the ages of two to 35.

We do the usual stuff. Football in the street, watch the Macy’s parade, eat and drink — a lot. But to liven things up, about two years ago, my brother decided it would be fun to go paint-balling. And the cousins weren’t the only ones involved. My mom played, my dad played, my aunt who freaks if a nail breaks played. Boom — tradition started.

Things can get pretty feisty in my family, so paint-balling was probably the best idea to relieve all the, ahem, tension from being around each other. And as we’re a pretty competitive bunch, no one was spared. I’ve had the bruises to prove it.

So of course when last year rolled around and my mom and dad were getting ready for the holiday again, they decided to spice things up even more.

Enter the costume contest of 2010. My mom actually sent out harassing emails to everyone saying that they were required — yes, required — to dress from any decade of their choosing. Those who did not participate were not allowed to eat. My family can’t survive without food, otherwise they get cranky. Everyone participated.

Although I slaved away all day making a Marie Antoinette-style dress that subsequently ripped the second I put it on, forcing me into my second-choice flapper dress, I’ll admit I had a lot of fun. And we all got along and laughed.

At the end of the day it may sound corny, but blood is thicker than water. I’ve come to realize throughout my time in college that when it comes to friends, quality is better than quantity and your true friends become like your family. They’ll be there for the long haul. Your family has stuck by your side no matter what. And through all the fights and the arguments, throwing on a goofy outfit and laughing until your sides hurt because Grandma farted when she got up from the table are the kind of memories you’ll never forget.

So with Thanksgiving around the corner once again, and all my family packing their suitcases to slowly but surely arrive on my doorstep, the sky’s the limit. I heard from my cousin that apparently each individual family is putting on a skit, but I don’t know how I feel about the whole dinner-theater, maybe musical, event. It’s just weird. But I guess I don’t really have a choice.