Turkey Day A'Comin
Thanksgiving seems like one of those non-holidays to me. I dunno, all that planning, all the mess, all the napping, all the parades and dull football games, and all the (gulp) family face time. Ugh. Suddenly, your own parents are looking over your shoulder to make sure that time-honored recipe for cornbread dressing that's survived generations is faithfully followed and that you're disciplining the kids just right. Some of you may just snap under the pressure, take a wooden spoon and stuff the dressing up their asses and send them packing with your kids in tow. Hmm. Not a bad idea, really. I hate having to watch what I say, keep my nice clothes clean amidst a flurry of flour, drizzles of mashed potatoes, splashes of hot basting grease, and torrential gravy downpours. I hate having to repent the sins I've brought down upon my innocent thighs. I hate dealing with hungry, hypoglycemic kids who ask "When's dinner ready" every 5 seconds. But I do love being with my kids and husband around a cozy festive table, thinking about how grateful I am to have them all as part of my life, and watching them all clean up the kitchen before Bush flies over the house in a helicopter to survey the damage and declare it a national disaster. Actually, that last part about watching my kids and hubbie clean up...that's my favorite part. Happy T Day everyone.