The morning of Thanksgiving began with loud chatter. I woke up from my hibernation much earlier than I had anticipated. I walked downstairs to the amazed looks of my family members, who knew there was no logical explanation for me being awake this early, to investigate the commotion. It seemed that our annual Thanksgiving curse was once again underway. Our oven wouldn't shut.

For the past four or five years on Thanksgiving day, the oven doors will hang open just enough to appear closed, yet let all of the hot air out into the room. It is the most bizarre thing, especially considering we got this exact problem fixed less than a year ago. But here it is happening again, and of course, my mother is in full crisis mode. The breakfast she had made for everybody four hours ago was just now finished, and at this rate, there would be no "Thanksgiving feast."

As everyone attempted to brainstorm what it was that we were going to do, my cousin created a makeshift solution to the problem. Using thick scotch tape, she taped the over doors shut by attaching the tape from the metal oven door to the stained wood wall. This seemed to work well for a while until my mom had to check the food inside. Each piece of tape had to be peeled off individually in order to look inside, and then put back on again. It was inefficient and not very practical. On top of that, the tape started to peel the wood stain off with it, so at that point my dad scratched the idea.

We had considered going to the store to see what we could find to keep it shut. But what store would be open on Thanksgiving Day? Maybe we could get adhesive Velcro strips to put on the outsides of the oven to keep it closed and allow for easy access? Would this really hold an oven door shut? And wouldn’t it completely melt in the heat? We were at a loss. I mean, I guess we could go borrow someone else’s oven, but they would probably be using it nonstop, too.

We were all sitting around the counter, around my anxious mother who could only prep for the meals she needed to make, but couldn’t actually cook anything. We went back and forth with different ideas and suggestions. A few jokes were thrown around to attempt to make light of the situation.

Finally, my dad walked through the doors with Gorilla Tape. Which, apparently, is super strong duct tape, that doesn’t peel paint off the walls and is easy to take off and put back on. This turned out to be the saving grace of the night. Our almost new, stainless steel oven looked quite comical being held together by strips and strips of duct tape, but the food that came out of that oven at the end of the evening was kind of incredible considering the course of events.

This situation is probably every Thanksgiving cook’s worst nightmare. The funny thing is, it really ended up bringing us all together. We had fun with it -- we worked together and supported each other instead of getting frustrated and giving up. This is what Thanksgiving is all about: family, broken ovens, and how you deal with them. In all honesty, it is really what every day should be about -- supporting the people who support you and handling whatever comes your way with a positive attitude. I know Thanksgiving is over, but our days of having things to be thankful for are never over.