Tonight I'm meeting my parents and sister and we're all going to my aunt's house to help prepare for Thanksgiving. And, in my case, when I say "help" I mean "sit around, make sarcastic comments, and drink wine." Good times. Last time we did this (two years ago?) my aunt drank too much and spent Thanksgiving morning "worshipping the porcelain gods." Her words. And, Aunt _______, don't be mad because I left your name out so no one will know it was you.
I don't know if you've noticed, but this day has lasted at least 45 hours already. I feel like it's Christmas eve but instead of presents I'm getting turkey, mashed potatoes (!!!), and stuffing. I love Thanksgiving, and even more now that I don't eat home cooked meals very often because that would mean I'd have to cook . . . at home . . . and that never ends well. I love that on Thanksgiving, gluttony is not only accepted, it's encouraged. Oh, America.