Pass The Stuffing

The scene: a rustic wood cabin in the wilds of Wyoming. The prairie winds howl outside while inside a family sits down to their holiday feast.
"Daddy, what are you thankful for this year?"
The patriarch leans back in his seat and considers, "Well dear, this year my heart is full. I'm surrounded by those I love and those who love them."
"That's beautiful, daddy," the eldest daughter dabbed a tear.
"You mean somebody's heart is full," snickered the younger, "It's not really yours."
A loud harrumphing comes from the head of the table.
"Now, now," soothes the mother, "can't we just have a pleasant meal without all this sniping at one another?"
"I'm not sure, mom," says the younger daughter, "Some people just don't know when to keep their mouth shut."
"I suppose you're talking about me?" The elder pushes back from the table, arms folded across her chest.
"If the Dolce Gabbana fits..."
"Daddy? Do I have to sit here and take this?"
Before Daddy can clear his throat one more time, the younger daughter rises from her seat, “Liz — this isn’t just an issue on which we disagree you’re just wrong — and on the wrong side of history.”
"You're talking about her, aren't you," pointing at the seat next to her younger sister.
"You're addressing my wife, and she has a name."
The young lady next to the younger sister puts down her napkin, "Liz you've been a guest in our home,  spent time and shared holidays with our children, and when Mary and I got married in 2012 you didn't hesitate to tell us how happy she was for us.To have you say now you don't support our right to marry is offensive to say the least."
From the other end of the table, Mom speaks up. "Would anyone care for dessert?" As the cold November breeze kicks up again outside.
Happy Holidays from the Cheneys.