Remember a few weeks ago how I took down Kirk Cameron? Remember how I said that if you can no longer find the joy in the holiday traditions, maybe it's time to find new traditions? That's how my mom felt about Thanksgiving. She was no longer able to feel the *joy* in cooking Thanksgiving dinner. And without that joy, you and I both know that the woman of the house is worthless.
So, she dropped Thanksgiving dinner like a bowl of her famous piping hot mashed potatoes.
She and my dad rented a house for us in Eagle Ridge (in Galena, IL) for the weekend. We all arrived on Wednesday, John and I and our two kids, my brother, his wife, and their two smallfolk. The kids took over the basement, building blanket tents on the pool table, making ornaments, doing puzzles, building farms out of Lincoln Logs, coloring, throwing popcorn everywhere, hiding one another's prized possessions, you know the drill. They had a "sleepover" in the basement bedroom that resulted in a metric shit ton of giggles.
I took a bath in a huge tub that I didn't have to clean. It was heaven.
When it came to Thanksgiving dinner, three people dressed up as a pilgrim, Native American, and turkey (morbid) showed up at our door with food, food that was already in containers that we could just shove into the fridge when we were done. The only cleanup required were the dishes, and we had a dishwasher for that.
I love Thanksgiving dinner and I'm thinking about hosting it next year because I'm young-ish and I've never done it before and I love cooking, but that meal takes days to prep and it goes so quickly. The four kids ate about five bites combined, and those were mostly bread. Then they were up and running around and eating the Tootsie Pops the turkey had handed them. There were no hard feelings about how little they ate or how quickly they got up from the table. No one was tired from all the cooking. If anything, we were tired from doing 1000 piece puzzles and watching people do 1000 piece puzzles (that would be me).
After dinner and after everyone had settled in, John and I became part of the problem when we drove to Dubuque, IA to check out the deals. We crossed state lines to go to a Target. That happened. We can't deny it.
The rest of the weekend was filled with sushi (Galena's Little Tokyo is something special, folks, no joke), breakfast with Santa, Trival Pursuit, Hallmark Christmas movies, and Cards Against Humanity, a game I'm pretty sure my dad hated, but was really good at.
We had a great, relaxing time together. There was no fighting (other than the bickering from the kids, which we pretty much solved by cracking open another bottle of wine for ourselves; they're old enough to handle their own problems by now). We left before we had gotten too tired of one another's mugs.
And besides, any time "three dicks at the same time" becomes the catchphrase, you know you've had a good family weekend.
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