A dozen years of a Thanksgiving family column tradition

In addition to already being our greatest holiday, Thanksgiving has special meaning for my family. On Thanksgiving Day 12 years ago, my wife gave birth to our twin sons, Ross and Ben. Will was born in 1999. As I have for every Thanksgiving since that emotional day in 1995, I ask your indulgence as my family shares some thankful moments from the last year.

We are thankful:

For the way the phone suddenly gets answered quickly in a house occupied by middle-schoolers.

For the county fair where the Newton-Jasper Community Band featured Ben playing his oboe alongside Grandma Lois on the drums.

For the way super-exciting, double-overtime playoff games for all three kids make me discover I can be moved to cheer at soccer games.

For the end of tee-ball -- and Will's long-awaited start of pitch ball.

For the first rock concert outing ever for the kids (and first for us parents since the Rolling Stones? The Tom-Tom Club? Bruce Hornsby? NWA?), the "awesome" Weird Al Yankovic in Milwaukee on a school night.

For Ross' part in a sixth-grade play called "Rock Around the Block."

For Ben's enthusiasm for stage crew.

For Will's ability to remind us of his Grandpa Willy with his sports play, expressions and humor.

For overnights with Grandma Jean and Grandpa Paul, and with Grandma Lois.

For that first middle-school dance where Ross and Ben had fun and my chaperone wife learned what "juking" is.

For the kids' interest in hip-hop, rap and iPods that dragged my wife and me back into the Top 40 music world.

For moments when the boys are rolling around like puppies, laughing, fighting and about to break something or hurt someone -- and my wife and I realize that this nonsense qualifies as the worst behavior we see.

For the way the boys forgive my yelling, and don't hold me to the fatherhood standards I'd like to reach.

For Cheryl, who somehow manages to be a great mom and beautiful wife even when she has to share one bathroom with four males.

For Will finally losing his discolored (brown) front tooth that had been a part of his glorious smile ever since a wagon mishap as a toddler.

For free-range kids who appreciate roaming Fountain Park Chautauqua the same way I did as a kid, and my mom and dad did as kids.

For the kids' homemade videos that range from the comedic waiter in Ross' "Les Idiots" to the blood-stained corpses of cousins during the "CSI: Fountain Park" series.

For homework where I stammer empty-headed before saying, "I'm not going to just give you the answer. What did your teacher say a 'predicate nominative' is?"

For those breakfasts when Ben forgets to eat because he's reading a book, reading Newsweek or reading the back of a cereal box.

For joyous moments when our living room features Will on the piano, Ben playing the oboe, Ross on the violin, and my wife and me glad for the music, but in agreement that the drums should stay in the basement.

For cousins -- all nine.

For discovering the L word (lice) is far more prevalent then we had envisioned, and our gratitude for not having more serious problems.

For that week of vacation in Michigan when we discovered badminton.

For bike trips in the city.

For spring break in Springfield, St. Louis and Hannibal.

For the crushing realization that our never-got-used playoff and World Series tickets taught our kids all they need to know about being lifelong Cubs fans.

As our family celebrates today's holiday, we hope you and your loved ones can compose a similar list.