Thanksgiving. What it Really Means.


Ahhh, Thanksgiving.

For some it means a day off, watching the parade, drinking a few beers watching the football game or perhaps raking leaves until the dinner bell is rung.

For others it means running around to 7-11 for that last minute ingredient, a stressful morning, awaiting for your dysfunctional family dinner to begin, being stuck in traffic, a bird that is no where near finished by the time the door bell rings or perhaps it’s  your favorite day to pop a Xanax?

To me ,Thanksgiving is really a of combo of all of these scenarios.

Lately, we have opted to have Thanksgiving at our house.

Not because we are feeling extra generous..

Not because we are want to spend 48 hours of non stop preparation……

Not because we want to run around piecemealing a diner table that we are lucky isn’t reminiscent of the gathering in Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving where the chairs are all mismatched, people are confused and the guests are eating pretzels, toast and popcorn.

We do it for a couple of reasons..

It’s convenient for us not to have to sit in traffic with a one year old….

We don’t have to run after a baby in a non-childproofed house…

We can go to bed whenever we want……

And we can be cranky and blame it on the stress of the holiday without having judgement passed on us.

As always I stress, worry and become extra OCD over the perfection of the day. That’s just who I am, but it always seems to work out in the end.

The dinner was great, the company was awesome, the commute was wonderful and again I realized what I am truly thankful for.

My family, my health, my freedom to talk shit like I do in my blog and the love that I received from everyone around the table.

I hope you had a great Thanksgiving and may God Bless you.

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