A not so Charlie Brown Friendsgiving

Charlie Brown at his very own Friendsgiving. (Photo credit: Google Images)

Nobody asks Charlie Brown if he wants to host Thanksgiving. Peppermint Patty phones to say she’s coming, calls back to say she's bringing Marcie, then calls again about Franklin. Chuck gets out half a “Well, I, uh…” each time and never gets to say no.

If you’ve ever hosted a Friendsgiving, you know exactly how this goes. It starts as “we should do something,” turns into a group chat and ends with eight people in an apartment built for two.

The menu is where it goes sideways. Charlie Brown admits he can make cold cereal and toast, so that’s what’s served: toast, pretzel sticks, jellybeans and popcorn, on a table Snoopy dragged out of the garage. Someone suggests a clever workaround: cook for the friends first, then go to Grandma’s for the real dinner. 

Two dinners. It’s the most college-student plan in the history of animation.

Then Patty sits down, surveys the spread and loses it. Where’s the turkey? Where’s the cranberry sauce? And Marcie, bless her, asks the question every host has wanted to ask a guest: did he invite you, or did you invite yourself?

Patty gets it eventually. Marcie tells Charlie Brown that Thanksgiving is about more than eating. It’s about being together. It’s a bit corny, but it’s still the most accurate description of Friendsgiving I’ve heard.

Because we all know this party. 

There’s the borrowed folding table that wobbles whenever someone cuts something.

The one oven everybody needs at 350 at the same time. The person who promises homemade stuffing and shows up with a box of it. The friend who brings store-bought rolls and eats half of them. The guest who arrives with a plus-one and a question about gluten. And every host has stood in the kitchen at 6 p.m. wondering how people think a turkey cooks itself.

Snoopy packed his plate full, no stomach of his was leaving empty. (Photo credit: Google Images)

None of it matters. People talk about the burnt rolls for years. The table was the point.

So what can we do with this?

Start with the invite. Say it’s a potluck, say it's casual and say what you’re making, so nobody shows up expecting a turkey. Then hand out the dishes in the group chat, which saves you from four desserts and no vegetables. Keep a frozen pizza in the freezer as a backup, because Charlie Brown didn’t have one and look what happened.

Don’t host alone, either. Ask one friend to bring chairs, another to bring ice and a third to take the photos. 

Hosting is a team sport and the best Friendsgivings feel like one. And when you’re making the guest list, think about who has nowhere to go. 

For plenty of students, this is the holiday.

If you’re the guest, be a good one. Show up on time, bring something and help with the dishes. And whatever you do, don’t invite yourself over.

Charlie Brown’s grandmother ends up saving the day, welcoming the whole gang to a real dinner. Friendsgiving is the main event now, but it still works best with someone who has a bigger kitchen and a lot of patience.

So host badly. Bring toast. Sit down together. It’s the only recipe that works.