Thanksgiving and beyond,

I find it hard to believe that this is the 15th of November. Thanksgiving is 10 days away. Holy frac! Of course the stores began putting up the decorations for Christmas a week before Halloween. They could at least wait a couple of weeks so the pumpkins don’t feel rushed out.

Also, in the past few days, all I have heard has been advertisements for Black Friday! I hate to say it – it really shows my age or ignorance, but until a few years ago I didn’t know what Black Friday was. I always called it, “NO! I don’t want to go shopping today, are you NUTS!” For some reason my daughter wants to. Sorry kid, it ain’t happening. Sure, you get good deals that will come in handy with this economy – but I don’t feel like getting squeezed together between to shopping carts being pushed by overly stuffed people thinking they are in a Nascar races. (Another age showing gem – I worked retail when the Cabbage Patch Kids first hit the market. I found it amazing that people went nuts over this doll.) I plan on staying home and either writing or playing WoW. Of course this depends on which TV station has the best marathon running.

It seems that we picked the perfect time to Thanksgiving dinner have at our house. Normally it is at her dads, which I can handle a little bit. I really enjoy sitting at the table for an hour, after we eat, so I can listen to hilarious tales and situations about people I don't know and really don't want to know. (However, as a writer it makes good material if I can remember it.) I'll still have to listen to the stories, but this time, the left overs stay here.
Now, if only our heater works and the kids clean their rooms and the mess blob doesn't escape when they open their door.
In the past ten years, since we have been together, I think this will be the third time this has been attempted. A few years ago, on another blog far, far away:

It began as just a thought, turned into a whole blown date, but that year – Thanksgiving struck our house. I think the turkey we picked up a week ago was named Murphy.

We had planned on it as simple, short – a nice dinner with her dad and our new family. The wife was always a good party thrower, but sometimes things don’t always happen the way they are planed, it would make a boring life if it did. The temperature was a chilling 38 degrees outside as we threw the turkey in the oven and closed the door. The kids were all snuggled and warm in their rooms, playing their computer games and staying away from us, only because they were afraid they would be given something to do.

At about the same time the door to the oven closed, a large pop came from outside and down the street. We noticed the total silence at first – no TV, no nothing. The only sound, that echoed through the house: children cussing because we lost the electricity.

It wasn’t long, about one tenth of a second, that the oldest one bounced down the steps – “Hey, what happened – I lost the Internet!”
“We lost the electric, read a book – it is still light out.” I suggested. That didn’t go over well.
Emergency calls started, the power would out for about three more hours. Her dad, he lived close, still had power so we shoved Murphy in the car and headed that way. His oven was warmed up and ready so Murphy found another home.
As soon as we set the timer, the oldest kid rang the wife’s cell phone, “Power is back on!”

Now is the time to celebrate and congratulate the electric company. I think they lie on purpose so they look better when they take care of it faster. After we unwrapped Murphy from her dad’s oven and pushed him back in the car we rushed home.

Upon opening the door – smoke flew out into the frigid air. Panic struck, the wife runs inside and quickly finds the source of the problem. The oldest one was cold – he only wore thin pajama bottoms with no shirt and bare feet. Instead of getting dressed into warmer clothes he decided to make a fire. Fortunately for us we have a fireplace. However, it usually works better if you open the chimney flue all the way before you light the fire.

Murphy eventually made into the oven where he cooked till done. We decided to take him back to her dad’s house since we still had the faint smell of smoke lingering in the air.

The rest of the night is a blur of conversations and children saying, “Is it time to go yet?” Eventually they got that wish and we piled into the car, taking about half the left overs with us.
Will we have better luck this time? I am trying to think positive here.