So, Thanksgiving was lovely. We had a last minute change of venue over to our house, which was perfect because with 25+ people milling around we need every advantage to help Ty feel at ease. So our home, it was. We played table jockey and squeezed all of us into the family room and dining room. Everyone brought food to serve or finish cooking up here.
Earlier that day I decided to add three more pies to our growing collection and about the only good thing I have to say about the frigid temperatures lately, is that at least they allow me to use the great outdoors as my own personal Frigidaire.
The prayer had been offered, the tables were beautifully set, the food fabulously warm, and the people, they were squeezing into their chairs (it's a tight fit with all of us) and somewhere in there my chair landed on my foot and a word of the four letter variety (my horrible memory fails me as to just which beauty it was) fell out of my mouth. I felt sort of deflated. Because, hello! WE'RE TRYING TO BE ALL THANKFUL UP IN HERE AN' STUFF, not forking over class-less auto shop vernacular.
And then without skipping a beat my brother said, Great! It's officially Thanksgiving now. Let's eat! And so we did and it was wonderful. We were thankful for each other's company and contributions to such a feast of plenty. But most especially, we were grateful for the door on the basement separating the kids from the adults for our after-dinners.
How about you? Did you have a Happy Thanksgiving