This Thanksgiving, my mom and I pregammed by hitting outlet malls early and fortifying our stomachs with lots of kale salad.
This Thanksgiving, we celebrated Wednesday night so that we could head out of town for a wedding on Thursday.
This Thanksgiving, we pushed a card table against our regular one, sat on all sorts of assorted chairs, used two tablecloths to cover the multilevel table, skipped china and crystal, and used plastic silverware cleverly designed to look like silver.
This Thanksgiving, I made brussel sprouts so sub-par that we just quietly dumped them into the trash after dinner.
This Thanksgiving, the kitchen sink started spewing black sludgy water halfway through dinner, meaning that no dishes or cleaning could happen that night.
This Thanksgiving, James waited around for a unhappy plumber on Thursday after we all left and then spent two days doing all the dishes and cleaning up the visitor aftermath.
This Thanksgiving, we sat around and played games and didn’t leave the table for hours, partially because of food coma, and partially because there was no space in my apartment to move.
This Thanksgiving, like every Thanksgiving, I was reminded how abundantly full my life is, and how much I have to be thankful for.