My Thanksgiving had all those things and more. While I wasn't with my kin family, I did spend Thanksgiving with my work family, who are every bit as generous and perhaps even stranger than my kin family. They text me when I am sick, tell me stupid jokes, eat off my plate, nag me to death and expect more of me. God, it IS like they're related to me.
On Thanksgiving they even talked to me through the bathroom door while I tried to pee, just like home!*
Before dessert and after the most delicious stuffing I've ever eaten in my life (sorry mom), we went around the table and said what we are thankful for.
I was happy to look around and see that Ray and I were in the midst of a terrific extended family. Weird and funny and embarrassing and awesome and accepting and perfect, just like every family should be.
When it was my turn I said I was thankful for Ray, my health, my work family, delicious food and boxed wine.
I might have been especially thankful for that boxed wine because I was getting tipsy from it. That's the kind of guest I am - I brought a box of wine to the Boss Man's house as a funny gift - to offend his wine snob sensibilities - and ended up drinking it.
That's why his face is so sad here, he knows he's not going to get to drink that much of it.
Or it's because he hates boxed wine AND Sauvignon Blanc. Who doesn't like SB, anyway? Crazies, that's who.
This particular vintage was super refreshing - it tasted mostly like city tap water (Houston, maybe? Ashtabula?), but had Applebee's dishwater undertones and finished like a Target aisle spill in lane 8. (Which makes sense, since that's where I bought it.)
I don't know what he was crinkling his nose at. I followed the wisdom of at least a 100 sommeliers before me - white wine with white meat. Plus, drinking SB in great quantities can make even the virtual strangers you're eating Thanksgiving with feel like real family - I LOVE YOU GUYS! *sobs into wine glass
But our thankfulness didn't stop there. Saturday morning Ray fried up some potato pancakes with the leftover mashed potatoes Rachel gave us. I'm not even sure if I like mashed potatoes anymore since realizing you can fry them and turn them into something else. Fried mashed potatoes from now on, I say.
Anyway, I hope everyone counted their blessings and had a great Thanksgiving. Next up, Christmas!
* Because I don't like to stop on the three hour drive home to Indiana to visit my parents, the first thing I do when I walk in the door is drop my bags and run into the bathroom to pee. But my parents are so excited to see me that rather than wait until I come out, they just start talking to me through the bathroom door. How was your trip? Was the drive ok? Did it rain? Why do you have all these bags? Are you feeling ok? What do you want for dinner? And I answer all of them to a point, until finally I'm just, "FOR GOD'S SAKE, GIVE ME ONE MINUTE TO PEE HERE!"
But you really haven't lived until your Boss Man reenacts this for you during Thanksgiving at HIS home. He actually ran after me when I went to pee. I was mid-flush when I heard "Everything ok in there?! Need anything?!" from the other side of the bathroom door. Confused, I was all - GA-WOOSH (flushing) - and opened the door startled: "What?! Is something happening?! Omg, is there a fire?!" And there was the Boss Man, smiling maniacally saying, "Hahaha!!! Just wanted to make you feel at home!"
It was Marion, Indiana in Indian Hill my friends.
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