I know, I probably should have reported in right away on Friday. But, in my defense, I could barely move.
Off the couch.
My husband kept bringing me snacks and pressing Play. And doing that thing where he makes himself a perfect pillow while petting my hair.
I cannot be expected to write under those conditions!
Anyway, I’m here now and only just popping in to share a couple of quick anecdotes from our Thanksgiving, mostly the run-up. I spent most of the actual holiday in the kitchen, and he spends most of that day helpfully staying out of my way, occasionally cruising through to comment on how good everything smells.
None of it got him out of trouble for this, though.
HIM: I need to get some stuff for sandwiches.
ME: Yep, I already started a list, and put sandwich rolls and cream cheese on it.*
HIM: And I need to get some sliced turkey.
ME: You’ve got to be shitting me.
HIM: For today!
ME: No. You are not bringing more turkey into this house when I’m already brining 23 pounds of it right now.
HIM: Fine, maybe roast beef or something.
ME: (shouting after him) Peanut butter and jelly! That’s what you can have!
Yes, he seriously wanted to run out for deli turkey on Wednesday. If that’s not grounds for divorce, I don’t know what is.
And yes, our turkey was actually just over 23 pounds. Husband usually talks me down, but this year I distracted him with this:
ME: Look! (points to Certified Humane label on turkey)
HIM: Oh, good!
ME: And it doesn’t seem to have one of those godawful pop-up things.
HIM: Well, yeah. Those aren’t cruelty-free.
ME: No, they’re not… They don’t… The turkey’s already…
ME: (picking through turkeys) There’s so much wrong with you
Oh, and there’s water in our basement. But that’s an ongoing saga, and I do not have the energy to share that with you right now, because it’s still happening. But, for future reference, if you ever want a Thanksgiving challenge? Try cooking that giant meal while the men in your life run up and down the basement steps trying to sop up water while reassuring you that it’s fine, and that there’s no need to call a ridiculously expensive professional something-or-other on a holiday.
Nope, we’re not talking about the water. Instead, please enjoy this photograph of our four-o’clock** turkeys, who made themselves scarce last week but finally wandered back through the neighborhood this weekend.
* If you’re not currently eating your Leftover Turkey sandwiches with cranberry sauce and cream cheese, you’re doing it wrong.
** Don’t look at me like that. What time do turkeys stroll through your neighborhood?