Well that was refreshing, no?
It was a Thanksgiving of epic proportions, with at least 3 kinds of stuffing, 5 kinds of pie, and more random bits of pure deliciousness than I can properly count. And as much as it pains me to say it, I very well may have been singularly responsible for the decimation of literally (actual literally, not fake 'literally') 2.5 of those 5 pies. And all of one of the kinds of stuffing. How I am not some sort of beached whale after my shenanigans this weekend is a mystery for the ages.
I went over to my parent's house on Thursday morning, because Dallas traffic on Wednesday night was like a scene out of War of the Worlds, only without all the laser beams and less creepy Dakota Fanning. I made it by noon and we proceeded to take the path of greatest resistance - putting up all the Christmas lights during the day, while we waited for our ginormous turkey to properly roast itself. This led to me dangling off the side of their house on a 20 foot ladder with a hammer in one hand, a screwdriver in the other, a hook clenched in my teeth, and a string of multi-color lights wrapped around my arm.
Despite this virtual recipe for disaster, I came out of the entire thing unscathed, except for an incredibly sore back from when I insisted on raking the front lawn. Because apparently I have some weird sort of latent OCD when it comes to leaves. I also managed to get the bejesus freaked out of me, when it turned out that the wire-light-up reindeer that my dad installed in the front lawn was animatronic. There was a mad crazy moment there when I was all The-Shining-topiary-animals-out-for-revenge bugging out, because I was just standing there minding my own business, admiring our handiwork on the house, when the supposedly inanimate glowing reindeer turned its head and looked at me. Do you have any idea what that can do to a man's psyche? For one thing, it makes one scream like a little girl.
This was luckily witnessed by very few people, all of which I have enough dirt on to purchase their silence for life. Except when it's just our family at the dinner table, where they are free to mock me forever, and I them. We're very warm to each other, you understand.
In any case, the lighting of the house was followed by the Thanksgiving dinner from the gods, discussed earlier, followed by a mass exodus of all our family to the various parts of the state. With the exception of lazy me, who sat around and planned on loafing about for at least another couple of days. Because really, who needs a mortgage the day after Thanksgiving? No one I need to associate with.
Friday I was left to my solitary devices as even the people who lived in the house decided to make a run for the border or what have you. They invited me along, but as this run entailed at least 7 hours on a yellow school bus, I naturally declined. Family bonds only take you so far, you understand. Instead I stayed at home and managed to basically eat everything that ever was and potentially ever will be again. This was where those additional pies disappeared. Along with the majority of the dark meat from our prodigious turkey and all the broccoli casserole and that jar of olives. What can I say? It was Thanksgiving, it's practically required.
Saturday was pretty self-contained, as my family made our yearly pilgrimage to the Thanksgiving sales, only a day later than usual. There was precious little actual present shopping to be had, but I managed to pretty much double my wardrobe of 'Things that are acceptable to wear in a public setting' in just one, really thorough trip to Old Navy, otherwise known as My Mothership.
So yeah, flawless good times, good family, good thanks, and a lack of injuries.
Pretty spiffy, I'd say.
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