Why I’m Thankful Post-Thanksgiving

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So, on Thanksgiving, did you go around the table expressing your gratitude? (Prepare for a series of run on sentences. In fact, as Dave Letterman says, “Hold on to your wigs and keys.)) Although we didn’t say it aloud, I’m sure we were all grateful that the burn I got my stomach from nudging a pan of rolls out of my way because my hands were full and my counter more full because the sink backed up and we were unable to cycle the dishes through the dishwasher didn’t mean a trip to the ER where the people who didn’t cook their turkey properly were less than appetizing to be around.

Speaking of thankfulness, and despite what it may seem for the next few sentences, I am speaking of thankfulness; you know how when someone says something to you and you fumble around in your brain looking for Oscar Wilde or at least Groucho Marx and can only come up with the neighbor kid who answers every question with “huh?”? And then, in the middle of the night, when you wake up to worry about vitally important stuff like, should I bring my jacket back the tailor that hemmed the sleeves a good half-inch higher than my wrists or fold shirt sleeves back over the cuff and act like I mean it? You know how, during that same time of the night when TV used to play the national anthem and go off the air, but now airs commercials starring people who can’t sleep because they’re on crack so you don’t bother watching and instead come up with the perfect in-your-face comeback which is not only witty, but thoughtful with the ability to change a persons entire perspective to that of your own, which is the only the only rational point of view? You know how that works, Sparky? That’s how I am when someone asks me a complicated question like, what’s your favorite song or what are you grateful for?

So, when my husband asked me what I was thankful for during our Thanksgiving meal, I could only come up with the fact that my little dog seems feel better and therefore was not urping during dinner. Now that I’ve had a few days to think, I have a much better answer, at least in my opinion. Here are the highlights.

I’m thankful there are so many mind-blowing, reality warping, tear provoking, danceable songs that I can’t come up with just one favorite. I’m grateful that composers can still write new music with the same handful of notes. I’m really grateful that my son is one of them and that everyone who hears his music agrees he’s a freaking genius. OK, not everyone, most people are just impressed with his musical abilities and skills as a conversationalist however, me, his dad, his grandparents, his godmother and some of our life-long friends are in agreement that his is a musical force to be reckoned with. (Please, if you care anything for me, don’t tell him I called him a musical genius as this seems to annoy him.) He’s also adorable.  Buy his CD.
I’m grateful that the election is over and more so, that the election commercials are gone, at least for a few months when the next cycle will begin.

I’m grateful that out latest attendance of the musical Les Miserables is over, because, no matter how astonishing the talent, how evocative the set design, how sweeping the epic, how memorable the music, in the long run, we are paying an enormous amount of money to attend a show with the title, Les Miserables, which translated means get ready to lose hope in everything good in the world. You should go see it. It was sensational and I’m still dehydrated from participating in the mass weeping. What greater tribute is there than that?

I am, as I mentioned, thankful that, after a bill from our vet which fell somewhere between ouch and BWOING, my little dog is feeling well enough to be irritating again.

I’m grateful that my husband made it possible for me to attend the best concert I’ve ever seen. Had I paid to see Coldplay with my own nickels and dimes I would currently be questioning whether I had actually seen Coldplay. Considering the fact that he has seen me slap my hand over my mouth and squeal at the sight of Chris Martin and still loves me enough to pay for me to scream at Mr. Martin in person, that and his charming good looks make him the best husband ever.

I’m grateful that (hang on while I knock on wood) that I have thus far evaded my regular head bashing which I have scheduled nearly every decade whether I need it or not. Thus far, I’ve had three skull related car accidents and one collision with a porch railing when I was short enough to run headlong into a railing. If we ever meet, ask to see my dent.

I’m thankful for the editors who remember I have a car payment.

I’m grateful to those of you who take the time to read my essays which, in case you’ve been thus far unaware, were meant to be funny. I’m especially grateful to those who’ve let me know that they realized this.

And finally, I’m also grateful for my ability to grant wishes to those of you who shared my blogs. Spread the word and bless us, every one.

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One response »

  1. Pingback: you were born lucky | Jonathan Hilton

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