It's late so I'm not sure how good of an idea this is, but I just read a 500 page book of absolute crap and I felt like putting some good grammar in my head before attempting sleep.. (If you're wondering, you should imagine an energetic CPR instructor waving his hands like an umpire when reading the title of this post. To this day he is one of my favorite instructors.)
Thanksgiving is next week. Growing up it was always huge, and we'd go to a specific relative's house and spend the day making merry. I've always been not-so-secretly sentimental and one of my favorite things has been hanging onto and making traditions my own.
I can't cook for squat (I once tried to make grilled chicken for 7 on a one person George Forman grill. Another time I burnt a pan trying to boil water.)
Anywho, since the only good I am in the kitchen is as a food taster, obviously we can't host Thanksgiving. I've always done my best to see as many people as possible in that one day, my record sits at 9 T-Day meals attended in one day, but last year was different. Just the hubby, Monkey and I. I don't understand why I stressed myself out all those years. Last year I got to spend the morning cleaning, ate a reasonable amount and wasn't swimming in leftovers for months afterwards. It was great! Screw people! Let them take care of theirselves, I'm wearing sweat pants and not showering! (Kidding, at least about the showering part).
This year there is a HUGE to-do happening and I want no part of it. After experiencing a wonderfully calm version of things, I almost want to be a hermit from Thanksgiving to New Years and get fat on latkes (one of the few things I CAN cook). I think the compromise is that we're going for dessert, and I can live with that. It's a lot easier to get a piece of pie than an entire meal when there's 20-something people together, and I'm counting on the turkey to slow my competition down.. ;)
So you know, if you care, I almost didn't ramble at you for the last half hour (that's how long it took me to write this, hopefully you read quicker than I type), but Monkey fell asleep in my bed and when I went to move him to his room he freaked out on me and is next to me hogging the bed. If you find me at all witty, you can thank my stubborn little man for deciding I don't need more than 5 inches of bed to sleep on and inspiring me to late night ramble at you. I hope he never grows out of his "my mommie is my favorite person ever" stage. It's an awesome feeling. :)
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