You play the piano beautifully, Pop. |
Thanksgiving has started off quite well.
My Dad made his signature waffles- Nora had the better part of two- and there have been more a few people dancing along with the Macy’s Parade. No names…but Nora wasn’t the only one marching with the Spirit of America dancers. (Also- I’m pretty sure the guy/girl ratio on that team is 7 to 800. I bet those boys felt pretty awesome last night at their motel party.)
Two of my sisters are home and the third will be here tomorrow. Plus all the guys. (That’s a relatively new thing to say in this family.) My folks are here and have not yet stopped preparing glorious meals. Or facilitating naps; if ever someone is reclining, a comfy throw is plopped over their torso. (3…2…1…snore.)
I am thankful for all of the family and friends I’ll get to see today and this week. And the ones I’ll be able to talk to via Skype and iPhone (for we live in The Future.)
Also, for the two turkeys and positively insane amount of side dishes and appetizers. (I will not talk to them, so much. But they will feel my love and gratitude.)
And beverages. All of the beverages, too.
I am beyond grateful for the fact that, this week, my husband has woken up with our Bitsy Bug at 6:30am- letting me sleep until eight. EIGHT! And due to his awesomeness/availability of sofa throws, I’ve taken no less than three naps.
I am thankful for our home- in fact, everyone’s home- and various leak-free roof/floor combinations. Also, the ability to heat/cool/hydrate/shove food into various kitchens. That’s a big one, too.
And I love my city, my neighborhood, the fifteen taco joints, the Middle Eastern bakery…
I’m grateful to the loved ones serving overseas…because, let’s face it. I’d be awful at that job.
I’m thankful that I can have the combination of wonderful part-time work that allows me to nanny and blog and write and- most importantly- spend 22 hours each day with Nora. (We all need our down time.) And, obviously, I have love in my heart (and wallet) for the Peej that facilitates and supplements this whimsical paycheck ride.
And, as my Dad just made a massive fire in the front room’s fireplace, this list could literally go on and on and on. And is that an hors devours plate? And who left this chenille throw here?
I do believe my daughter is still napping like the champion o’ holidays that she is…leaving only one thing left to do.
Poke the cranberry sauce and get yelled at.
Happy Thanksgiving, Lolliers. I love you guys, too. (Between all of this tryptophan and saccharine, naptime might come a little early today.)
Have a fabulous holiday, folks. Go on. Live it up and be merry.
…Poke the cranberry sauce.
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