For us, Labor day had always meant BBQ chicken. That started in 1959 when I was a wee lad and got brought to Red Rooster Day in Dassel MN. We continued the tradition when my son was born and brought him as a wee lad.
Even while living in other states, we grilled chicken on that day. Since moving back home to Minnesota, we still grilled chicken, as my standing in line for anything days has seen better days. We grabbed my wife’s Mother and headed over to my wife’s sister’s place. The town we live in is about 6 blocks square so getting from A to B to C is like a minute at most.
And instead of BBQ’d chicken, I BBQ’d ribs. Something I picked up a couple of years ago and since we lived in New Mexico for awhile, theses ribs make your eyebrows sweat real good.
My wife’s sister’s Son showed up with his wife and 6 kids and my Pastor and neighbor came over with his wife and 3 kids and then a friend of the Nephew showed up with his wife and 6 kids. It was a small house full of kids and they were angels, all of them. Much good fellowship and laughter.