Thanksgiving!

I’m not too late to blog about it, am I?  After a whirlwind week of family, museums, and plane trips, I feel like I’m taking that first huge breath after having been brought back to life.  So here it is, the big T-Day ‘017, in three parts: beginning, during, and after.  I do my best attempt to recreate some moments you probably had to be there to really get, so my apologies if you read this post and just think, “???”

Before:

We headed back to Kevin’s home town of Chicago for it, or Chi-town, as he calls it.  “Chih-town?” I ask.  “No, Shy-town,” he pronounces.  I say, then shouldn’t it be “Shih-town?”  To which the kids gasp, “Mom!”

We had Thanksgiving at my husband’s sister’s mother’s house, or my MIL’s sister’s house, or my sons’ father’s mother’s nieces’ parents’ house–whichever is easier for you to understand.  The minute we got there, Kevin’s cousin Ginny hooked me and Kevin up to Kleenex boxes for a game of “shake your tail feathers” where we were supposed to jump around to get the feathers out.  No pictures, but I drew a representation:

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(Representation may not be accurate to how events actually played out.)

Ginny started worrying about the size of the Kleenex box hole being too small, to which I announced loudly in front of everyone and Kevin’s mother, “Kevin’s always telling me that size doesn’t matter."  After gyrating and jumping for a few minutes with nary a feather falling out, we decided we would instead grab the feathers out of each other’s boxes, which made Kevin ask, “Can I tie mine in front?”

Like I said, you probably had to be there.  But it’s a good thing the kids were in the basement for all of this.

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We had some amazing chefs working in the kitchen while all this was going on. 

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Wait, what does her apron say?

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Oh well, Kevin’s mom can make anything taste good.  And as you can see, Thanksgiving dinner was doggone delicious.

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I kid, I kid.  Wonderful people food was made as well and eaten by humans who all went back for seconds.

During:

My favorite part of dinner was this conversation I had with Zoey, age 8ish:

Zoey: Today the fire fighters visited my school.
Me: Your school caught on fire today so the firefighters came to your school?!
Zoey: No, no, no! They came inside the classroom.
Me: Oh no! Your classroom caught on fire?
Zoey: No! They came for us, for the kids!
Me: Oh no!  The kids caught on fire at school and the fire fighters came to put you out?
Zoey: No, no! Nothing caught on fire! The firefighters came to talk to us!
Zoey: Oh…the firefighters came to talk to you and to use their big ladder to get the cat out of the tree.
Zoey: Nooooo!

At which point Kevin hijacked the conversation and then it really went off the rails, but Kevin’s not the star of this blog so we’ll just forget about that.

After:

After dinner, we all went downstairs to view the Ashley Whippet Frisbee Dog Museum, which happens to be in the family’s basement, and if you think that means it isn’t a full-blown museum, then you have another think coming.  There was nothing basement-y about this museum at all!  Hundreds of Frisbees, signed things, trophies, medals, memorabilia, even ashes of Frisbee dogs of the past, plus doors that looked incredibly official.

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And princesses!  Did I mention the princesses?

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After we had gotten our fill of turkey an Frisbees, we spent the rest of the evening mercilessly beating the 88-year-old “GG” (Great Grandma) in round after round of a fast card game called “spit.”  She laughed as hard as the rest of us at herself.

And all that was just one of three wild and crazy days in Chi-town.  We’ll see if I get around to posting the other two, but I’ve been a-writin’ books lately and don’t have much time left over for blog writing!

WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Beef yakisoba
Stir-fried vegetables with tofu
Gingerbread cookies

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