Giving Thanks

I was so excited for Thanksgiving, I baked 19 baby pecan pies. In an unrelated incident, my pants finally split on Monday. At work.

I know I've been a little overboard lately with the Holly Housewife shit, but I love Thanksgiving. It's the most laid back of holidays, really - and the nerdy side of me was stoked about starting some NEW TRADITIONS with my NEW HUSBAND.

Hubs has been holding down the couch for a week. He threw out his back and is on a strict prescription of Mortal Kombat and concierge service. His back has as much history as my leg, so I can quite literally feel his pain - but the selfish part of me still knows it means I'm stuck doing everything at home for a while.

Last night I arrived home after a frantic few days at work, glowing at the thought of - finally -  an evening to just relax with my man. He looked me deeply in the eyes and suggested how we might celebrate our first Thanksgiving Eve together.

"Wanna watch midget porn on the huge TV?"

I declined.

And baked a double batch of sugar cookies.

And lay in bed last night feeling sad that Thanksgiving wouldn't be its usual rowdy self this year. My family is loud and fun, but my husband is cranky and in pain and it would be hard to please both today.

But I woke up this morning and realized how lucky we still are. We will spend this weekend in warmth and abundance. My husband likes my family and I enjoy his. It's supposed to be a balmy 50 degrees outside today.

I'll take it, and I'll say thank you.

(Not the midget porn. The rest of it.)