Our first Thanksgiving in FL was a classic. We had just been married and had no furniture except a dining room table from a thrift store, a bed and bookshelves galore. We cut the legs waaaaaay down on the table and used it while sitting on the apartment carpet and a couple of pillows. If there was ever a starter apartment, this was it.
A friend from work was "homeless" for Thanksgiving and joined us. I cooked the usual Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone laughed, talked and ate. DH leaned back from the table, moving his pillow under his head and effectively occluding the opening into the kitchen. He clasped his hands over the dinner lump and announced he would just let his dinner "settle."
You can guess the rest. The two who were awake cleaned off the table and straighened out the kitchen and did the dishes over his "settling," snoring dinner.
This story is told annually if not more often.
Pat