I spent Thanksgiving with my sister in law's family, mostly Irish who speak quite loud. I sat at the head of the table and for a moment wondered if we should say grace. That passed and for the next two hours we ate heartily and discussed the storm.
I made none of this food and felt somewhat guilty. But I made up for it by inserting witty remarks at regular intervals. Football, of course, dominated the TV. I settled in the most comfortable chair and had a perfectly civil conversation with someone's aunt.
A part of me wanted to leave early and line up at one of the early bird stores. Maybe I could get a great deal on smoke alarms or something. Perhaps I could make new friends. Including Thanksgiving and door busters in the same sentence seems sacrilegious.
Now I will have to buy wreaths for the graves. I will use a coupon at AC Moore. Maybe I will seek out a small tree at the 99 cent store. I know half my fridge will be leftovers and a good part of my upcoming conversation will also be fragments from Thanksgiving, except without the constant chewing.
I sure hope olives last a long time because I've got an army of them.
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