My first Thanksgiving. This holiday has always been a huge affair in my family. This year was no different, and now I’m happy to be back home. I’m going to put on some comfy clothes, pour myself a glass of wine, and queue up some Netflix.
May Your stuffing be tasty,
May your turkey be plump,
May your potatoes n’ gravy,
Have nary a lump,
May your yams be delicious,
May your pies be the prize,
May your Thanksgiving dinner
Stay off of your thighs.
Here’s a sampling of family conversations over the holiday:
My mom: Did you hear about the murder in Indianapolis?
My son: You’ll have to be more specific, there are lots of murders in Indianapolis.
But I already knew which one she was talking about. The victim was a white female, pretty blonde, pastor’s wife, and originally from the area where my parents live.
Me: The media is only reporting on this because she’s white. Otherwise, they don’t care. –to which I got blank stares from my parents. Sigh.
Also, now they’re more convinced than ever that I’m going to be robbed and/or murdered.
Yeah, I think I need to decompress for a few days. 😉
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