'Twas early in the morning on Thanksgiving Day, when we heard a pitiful little boy say... "Oh NO! Something's wrong with my tummy I think. I got confused in the darkness and puked by the sink." The hub and I rushed in a groggy sleep fog to aid our poor boy who was sick as a dog. He really was serious about his poor aim as evidenced by the large spray pattern that was too tame. The hub took to cleaning, the man is a saint. "You're cooking the meal, food you must not taint." So the boy got in bed, one surface free of vomit. I raced for the Lysol and Resolve as fast as a comet. My mom was buttering Tom Turkey to put in to bake, and wondered what on Earth was I doing awake. (I told her and we expressed sadness and then decided to make the best of this for the second Thanksgiving in a row of a sick boy). The sick cot was laid out, the sisters fled the room. They determined they would try not to meet the same doom.
I put on The Goonies for sick boy to view and then rushed to the kitchen to cook for a few. Stuffing and turkey and gravy and beans were just a few of the dishes to pop the buttons on our jeans. Our family arrived to the girls' pure joy. "Tell some of those people, 'Hello'" said the boy. Our family's newest adoptee, Abraham from Nigeria, was a good sport to try all dishes even ones quite mysteri-a(ous). Then the bulk of the diners played a game "Wits and Wagers", while others cleaned up the carnage like pros from the majors. (That was really bad...I'm sorry).
Then soon we were off to my uncle and aunt's, to eat lots of sugar making us loosen our pants. The bounty was plenty, the company was sublime. We had so much fun, didn't notice the time. Celebrating successful surgeries, survival from trauma, impending graduations and enduring stomach drama. Our family is blessed as a family could be and those blessings they are, undeserved, but appreciated I hope you see.
Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!
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