I can’t cook a Thanksgiving dinner. All I can make is cold cereal and maybe toast. November 26, 2009
It’s 11:00. I am in bed next to a sleeping husband and a snoring dog. My kitchen is clean and my fridge is full of leftover potato casserole and green bean bundles and chocolate pie.
I spent the whole day inside my house. This morning we got up early and had the-turkey-is-finally-in-the-oven celebratory champagne and cranberry cocktails. We watched some of our kids perform in the parade on TV, made a thousand side dishes and snuck food to Miles while everyone else was looking the other way.
The house filled up with family and friends who brought pear stuffing and sweet potatoes and wine and laughter. We sat down around a beautiful (if I do say so myself) table and told stories about Thanksgivings where tables fell to the floor and mashed potatoes were thrown and that one time Aunt Donna’s jello exploded all over the kitchen and she stormed out without saying a word. We ate and ate and ate.
The Cowboys came on and our sweet friends patiently sat through two quarters of a game they didn’t care about while my husband and my father-in-law yelled at the TV. We fell asleep on the sofa. We played a super fun game at halftime that made me laugh so hard I cried. We ate more pie and watched the second half. I changed into my lucky shirt and we won, again. I am made of magic.
Our friends left and we settled in for the Texas/A&M game. Well, they did. I sat with my back to the TV and read a novel that made me cry and want to visit Wyoming. One by one, we went to bed.
And now I am sitting here, exhausted and stuffed and blissfully happy. We all have so much to be thankful for, we know that. And I am. So thankful. For all of those things.
Especially the sleeping husband. And the snoring dog. And the sweet life I get to live with them every day in this tiny house on this tree-lined street in this amazing city. And the intensely stressful jobs full of people we love who drive us crazy. And all the people we’ve met here who have become our family. And our actual family who are our rock and support even though we are so far away.
And the chocolate pie. Oh, the chocolate pie.
Happy Thanksgiving, friends.